Lunai sa: Book the Third
by Stefynae
Summary: The Journey...into darkness...even into madness. An elf and a student share a common bond; but not a joyous one. A journey of enlightenment, and most of all...the journey back home. *Chapter 9 up!*
1. Curses

Author's Note:  Here, before your very eyes, is the much anticipated third installment of a series that has been known to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses…

If some of you are wondering why the second book was ended so abruptly…don't worry about it.  If these four books were all in one, it wouldn't be so shocking.

I continue to look forward to writing Reign's story (and now Caelan's, also) and getting feedback.  So please review!  (Thanks to everyone who has reviewed my story so far, I love you all!)

Disclaimer: *Sigh* Unfortunately I don't own Harry or his friends, peers, teachers, enemies, etc.  They all belong to the genius, my inspiration…J. K. Rowling.

***

**Lunai-sä** Book the Third ~ The Journey 

One

Curses

Reign shot up from her bed, her heart racing as she recovered from her now regular nightmares.  

They had been disrupting her sleep for approximately three months now—ever since she discovered her newfound curse of stopping time.  She looked to the floor of her bedroom and wanted to cry; the path of moonlight streaming over the rug was in the same position as when she first laid down to rest.  That meant that right after she fell asleep, her power awoke and cast its spell on her world, discontinuing time.  

Reign fell back onto her pillow and cursed loudly.  These random occurrences of her stopping time had also been happening for three months, and she was getting extremely annoyed.  The elf clenched her fists and threw them back into her new headboard, flinching as her knuckles came in contact with the unyielding wood.  

No longer would that cursed snake haunt dreams, but its evil presence still lingered in her rooms.  Albus had offered her a new place to stay within the castle, but she refused, explaining that she would not run away from the darkness shrouding her every move.  

And now—as she thrashed in her bed—she wondered if things would be different if she had changed rooms.  She wondered if she would be sleeping peacefully at that very moment, instead of replaying the nightmare she had experienced.

Most of her visions were very similar—they always occurred at night in the forest.  Dark figures chanted around a blazing fire as one predominant figure stood off to the side, surveying them.  Next to him was a smaller, more slender figure, who twitched nervously at the sight.  

Sometimes the two figures would leave the ritual and disappear amongst the trees, and other times the smaller figure would attempt to join the crowd.  And then other times...

Reign shuddered.

Other times two of the cloaked figures would drag a beaten human into the clearing… sometimes it was a woman, others a man, sometimes an older person, and one time they brought in a young girl, who couldn't have been older than twelve.  And then they would begin the sacrifice.  The dark men would take turns beating the men, raping the women, torturing every victim with curses from their wands.  

And the leader of the group, the man that stood aside, would cackle.  And the sound would echo everywhere.  It mingled with the screams of his victims and the moans and shouts of his minions.

The smaller figure never took part in the gruesome activities.  Most often times he would turn away to avoid the horrendous sights, but then the man next to him would spin him around, and he was forced to watch the sacraments.  

And when the victims were broken and near death, they were dragged in front of the chief, and he would pull out his wand.  It was as black as midnight and always in perfect shining condition.  He would point it at the battered humans and a fierce green light would explode out of the end and straight through them.  And then their pain was over.

Reign hung her head between her knees as she wept for those poor souls.  

Seeing those visions over and over again and mixing them with no sleep was beginning to take their toll on the young elf.  

She released herself slowly back into the soft mattress, pulling her sheets up to her chin and curling her body up for warmth.  As her eyes began to shut, her ears picked up the familiar tick-tock of the clock beside her bed...and she hoped that time would continue through the rest of the night, allowing her to rest.

***

The Great Hall was bustling once again as Reign entered it in the morning.  The day was Friday, and tomorrow was another day at Hogsmeade for the older students.  It was the last day of classes until Monday; she could tell from the jaunty faces of students and staff alike.  All except Severus, whose face only brightened upon eyeing her sluggish frame approach the staff table.  

            "Hey Reign!  Do you wanna sit with us?" asked a voice off to her right.  She turned her head and rolled her eyes as Harry Potter's youthful face popped into her view.

            "No, Harry...not today."  The words escaped her body with every slow, deep breath.  Her vision was slightly blurred from her lack of sleep, but she still managed to catch a glimpse of the frown upon Harry's face.  

But she didn't care.  

            "He is so damned persistent," the elf huffed as she fell into her chair beside the Potions Master, who chuckled at her observation.

            "He's a Gryffindor," he replied, following her gaze to the teenage boy.  

Reign reached for her goblet and missed.  Her head felt so heavy upon her neck.  Her eyes began to close; she felt a strong grip seize her shoulder before she fell into her plate.

            "Jesus, Reign, what's wrong with you?"  The elf fell back into her chair and lowered her chin to her chest.

            "I can't sleep."

            "I find that hard to believe.  You seem to have no trouble attempting to nap in your breakfast."   

            "Shut up, Severus," the elf snapped—he obeyed.  Reign sighed as she lifted herself up, rubbing the sleep (or lack thereof) from her eyes.  "Ever since this damned 'power' fell into my lap, it's been eating away at me.  I can't control it.  It's taken over!"  Her fists slammed into the table.  Snape place a firm grasp on her shoulder, hinting for her to calm down.  "It'll happen in the middle of the night, Severus.  I'll feel like I've been asleep for hours...hell, I _have_ been asleep for hours...but after looking at the moon, or my clock...oh _Kor…_"  Her face fell into her hands.  "I can't go on like this."  Severus placed a cold hand on her back, patting it softly as his eyes darted around the Hall.  The damned woman made him so uncomfortable at times.

            "Reign, get a hold of yourself," he hissed at her.

            "_What?"  Her head snapped up and she glared at the Potions Master._

            "You'll be fine...just a few more months..."

            "Severus, I could be _dead_ in a few more months.  My biological clock is so screwed up I feel like a bloody plaything for time!"  The man stared at her as a familiar wave washed over the elf.  Reign growled and flung herself back into her chair.  Folding her arms across her chest, she waited patiently for the wave to pass.  Her foot bounced impatiently as she crossed her legs and glared at the sea of frozen faces.  

She was still mumbling curses when everything began again.  Severus stared curiously at her.

            "Maybe we should just place you in some dark, isolated, underground cave so you'll never even know what time it is."

            "That is _not funny."  An uncomfortable silence passed between them as they ate.  Reign devoured her breakfast in an unimaginably short amount of time; she was done before Severus had a chance to top off his cup of coffee.  He jumped when he heard the clang of silverware hit Reign's plate as she pushed back her chair and stood up._

            "I'm finished."  The tone that she used made Severus think she wasn't just talking about being finished with breakfast.  She passed behind him and he caught her arm before she slid out the back door.  The elf spun around and glowered at him.  Severus sighed as he stood up and led her to the door.

            "Is there anything I can do?"  The sincerity in his voice softened Reign's features and heart.  She shook her head.

            "I don't think so."

            "Will you let me know...?" Reign gazed into his dark eyes and smiled softly.

            "Of course."  He let go of her and watched as she slipped away from him.  "I'll see you at lunch.  Have fun teaching today."

Fun?  Did such a thing even exist when he taught?

Severus turned on his heal and walked in the opposite direction as the elf, but his heart and mind never left her side.

***

Please review.


	2. Nivah's Release

So sorry it's been so long since I've updated.  Golf season has started, and I've barely had time to do anything, least of all writing.  It's going to be like this until May, I'm afraid, but I will try my absolute best to update whenever I can.  Thank you all for your patience!

Two

Nivah's Release

That night Reign slept peacefully.

But only because the Dark Lord allowed her to do so.  

There was another meeting in the woods that night, but she would not be attending.  Without these visions, Reign finally got the rest she deserved.  But while she slept, the trees watched carefully and fearfully over the cloaked figures in their midst.

Tonight was another sacrifice.  Her name was Nivah...it was the name of a young girl who unfortunately stumbled into the forest at the wrong time.  The Dark Lord had not planned any rituals for that night, but was pleased nonetheless when she was dragged into the clearing.  The hot flames of the fire lit up her youthful face, casting shadows that played along the ageless pale skin.  She fell to the ground, creating a small dust cloud around her thin body.  Voldemort folded his hands and glided over to her.  The rest of the Death Eaters circled around their victim, their eyes staring hungrily at the young girl.  Her face still lay in the dirt; she refused to remove herself from the ground, refused to look her assailants in the eye.  She knew she had landed herself in a deadly situation, but she wouldn't make her death any easier for her murderers.

A tall figure loomed over her limp body.  He unfolded his hands and reached inside his robes for his wand.  Nivah watched only his feet from her position on the ground.  But she could hear his movements.  Every deep breath she took disturbed the dust around her thin mouth.  She watched as the shadow of his wand moved slowly over her body.  When it stopped she shut her eyes tight and waited for that one fateful moment.

But it didn't come.  

She opened her eyes as she felt some invisible force pull her body from the ground.  Rising slowly, she caught blurry glimpses of dark figures closing in around her.  She rose higher and higher until her feet were clear off the ground and she was at eye level with the man who held the wand.  

The Dark Lord smirked as the young girl's eyes widened when he removed his hood.  His red eyes surveyed her body...petite but strong—just how he liked them.  He moved closer and traced a finger along her jawbone and down to her collarbone.  His smile grew larger as he felt her hot breath against his cheek.  This one was stronger than the others.  She did not scream, or cry, or beg.  She was a challenge.

            "Welcome," he whispered into her ear.

Nivah tried her best to kick him, punch him, or at least turn her head away, but she was helpless with the body bind he had put on her.  She clenched her jaw and bit her tongue to keep from crying.  Damn her curiosity; it was truly going to be the death of her.  

Voldemort replaced his wand and removed her robes by hand.  The night was cold, and his lustful grin revealed to Nivah that the ice-cold air was affecting the skin beneath her nightshirt.  The man ran the tips of his fingers along her breasts, stomach, and hips.  She shut her eyes and scolded herself for becoming aroused by his touch.  

When he pulled away she didn't even notice; her eyes didn't open again until she heard his shrill voice announce to his fellow Death Eaters, "She is ready.  Do with her as you wish."  

He watched with satisfaction as her horrified face disappeared between two of his Death Eaters.  Slowly he retreated to a shadowy corner of the clearing, red eyes glowing with lust as he heard the moans from inside the small circle.  

Every dark figure took his turn in raping the young girl...all except two.  One figure leaned against a tree, watching the ceremony with a distasteful look in his eyes, while the other strode over to where his master watched.  

            "My lord," he said as he bowed.

            "Lucius."  Voldemort's eyes burned in their sockets.  "Why are you not participating?" he asked as he looked toward the circle.  

            "My lord, if you please—" Voldemort raised a bald eyebrow at the man.  "What are your plans for the elf?"

            "I wouldn't be forced to make any if you hadn't done what I asked of you."  Lucius instinctively took a step backwards.

            "But my lord, she is stronger than I expected—" he stopped as the red eyes widened.  "I'm sorry, my lord."

            "You are forgiven," came the reply, "for now."

            "But what will we do if she is not on our side?  You have tried nearly everything."

            "I have no need for her anymore."  Malfoy stared open-mouthed.  

            "But her powers, my lord...they would have proven most useful in our cause—"

            "Lucius, I thought I already stated that I have no need for her anymore."  Silence filled the shadow they stood in.  Lucius lowered his head and folded his hands.  The Dark Lord smiled and placed a finger on Malfoy's chin, lifting his face to stare into his gray eyes.  "There is no need for her...now that we have the girl."

            "The girl, my lord?"  Voldemort nodded.  "But she doesn't have the same powers as the elf—"

            "True, but she was made from her.  When I took a strand of white hair from Reign and a small sample of her elvin blood, I knew that her clone would lack her elvin power.  But I also knew that whatever Reign felt, she would feel, also.  And I knew that whenever the elf used her powers, her clone would be able to use them, too."

            "So," Lucius began as he pieced together the puzzle, "once Reign learns to control her power, she may try to use it against us."       

            "_Will_ use it against us," the Dark Lord corrected.

            "But the girl will not be affected by it."  Voldemort nodded.  "Brilliant, my lord."  

            "Of course it is," he snapped.  "But I need the girl to pledge her alliance.  I need to know that she will be faithful to me."  Lucius nodded slowly.  "That is where you earn the chance to redeem yourself."

            "I will do whatever you ask of me."

            "Of course you will.  You will do what you are best at."

            "My lord?"

            "I need you to break her in for me, Lucius."  A great smile spread across Malfoy's hidden face.

            "It will be my pleasure."  The pair looked over to the circle.  The young girl was suspended in the air once more, blood dripping down her thighs.  Her head hung limp against her chest.  The figure against the tree lowered his head, refusing to look at the gruesome sight.  

Voldemort and Lucius approached the circle, each smiling with his own satisfaction.  The Death Eaters moved to the side to let their master in.  With one pale finger, Voldemort traced Nivah's leg up to her thigh, collecting the fresh blood.  He gazed hungrily at the sacred liquid as it glistened in the light from the fire.  It tasted bittersweet in his mouth.

Virgin's blood was his finest wine.

            "Well done," he said to the Death Eaters.  The once predominant young woman hung silent in the air in front of him, her breathing much slower than when she first arrived.  Voldemort lifted her head and grazed her lips with his own.  "Thank you," he whispered into her mouth.  He smiled at the small groan escaping from deep within her throat.  He pulled back and brought out his wand.  "I do hope you haven't had too pleasant of a time here on this dreadful planet.  As your reward for your service, I shall send you away from here."  He raised his wand to the level of her eyes.  

A solitary tear fell down her cheek.  "Do not cry, sweet child.  Remember that death is a release, not a punishment."  

A blinding green light shot out of the end of his wand, and a moment later the girl fell to the ground with all life having been torn out of her young body.  The Death Eaters rejoiced at the sight.  Voldemort replaced his wand and watched as Lucius strode over to the tree where the small figure stood alone.  

A crazy smile crept over his face as Lucius touched the shoulder of the figure affectionately and turned it away from the scene, leading it back to Hogwarts.


	3. Suspicion

Three

Suspicion

            "Caelan?"

A swift prod in her side and the young woman was wide-awake.

            "What?" she asked in an irritated voice.

            "What's gotten into you?  I've never seen you so out of it before," Stanton Raigo said.  Caelan rubbed her eyes and the blurry objects and occupants of the classroom came into focus.  She caught a glimpse of Professor Snape eyeing her suspiciously, and she secretly thanked Stanton for waking her before her teacher caught her dozing.

            "I haven't been able to get much sleep lately, that's all.  I'm fine," she asserted as she picked up a ladle and began to stir their potion.  Caelan attempted to concentrate on the back of Harry Potter's head in order to keep awake, but the rhythmic motion of her stirring and the soothing scent of freesia petals soon lured her back to sleep.  Stanton was busy scribbling down observations and hardly noticed his partner had nodded off once more.  Only when a tall dark figure swooped behind him and loomed over Caelan did he take heed to the situation.

            "Miss Decatur," Snape whispered menacingly into his student's ear.  Her eyelids fluttered, but did not open.  The Potions Master stood up and folded his arms.  The small smile he wore soon disappeared and was replaced with a scowl as his other pupils turned their attention to the situation at hand.

            "MISS DECATUR!"  Severus had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing at the girl's reaction.  Her body came clear off her stool at the sound of his voice addressing her.  Stanton put a hand on her shoulder to stop her quivering.  Caelan folded her trembling hands in her lap and lowered her head, dreading the shadow standing behind her.

            "If this class was made for napping," Snape hissed into her ear, "there would be pillows lining the tables instead of cauldrons."

            "I'm s-sorry sir," Caelan stuttered.  Her voice was so quiet she wasn't sure he had heard her.

            "But since there are no pillows to speak of, I suggest you learn to get enough rest _before you come to my class."_

            "Yes sir.  S-sorry sir."  Professor Snape gave a satisfied nod and returned to his desk.

While he worked, he never took his eye off the girl for too long.  He had seen her look before—great bags under the eyes, hunched figure, a stare as if off in one's own world.  

It was the way he used to look after Death Eater meetings when he was younger.  

The mental strain they put on him always showed the next morning with these same physical signs.  Caelan was jumpy, groggy, and looked dreadfully suspicious.

When the bell rang at the end of class, the girl needed Stanton to escort her to the door; she was stumbling back and forth the whole way out of his classroom.  Snape drew his eyebrows together as he watched the pair exit the classroom, with Raigo interrogating her the whole way.

            "Caelan?  Caelan, what's gotten into you?  What's wrong?"

            "Nothing!  For Christ's sake, I'm just tired, Stanton."  Severus snorted at his desk; he didn't blame the girl for snapping at the boy.  Still…he was now very worried about the extracurricular activities of Caelan Decatur.

***

            "Severus!  Did you hear?"  Reign bounded down the corridor toward the Great Hall waving a copy of The Daily Prophet in her hand.  Severus gave her a disapproving glare as the students noticed her outburst.  

            "Obviously not," he whispered as she fell into step beside him, lowering her head.

            "Look," she commanded, pointing at the front-page headline.

'INNOCENT YOUNG WITCH MOST RECENT VICTIM IN STREAM OF MURDERS

Nivah Stratford was found dead this morning by a muggle who was hunting in the woods near his home in Belfast, Ireland.  After being notified, Ministry officials relocated her to a local wizarding hospital.  

Her autopsy report concluded that her death was indeed caused by the deadly Avada Kedavra curse, used most famously by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  While the Ministry of Magic cannot prove or disprove that The Dark Lord was responsible for the young girl's death, this is but one of several casualties that have occurred in the past several months in which the cause of death has been constant.  

Ministry officials are urging members of the wizarding world not to wander at night and to remain in large groups while out of their houses.  "This is most unfortunate," comments Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.  "We are doing everything we can to find the perpetrator(s) and put a stop to these horrific slayings."  

            "She was so young," says December Stratford, Nivah's mother.  "No one deserves this.  She was so beautiful...so smart...so young."  Nivah Stratford was just eleven years old when she passed away.  Remaining family members include her mother, her father—Clarence Stratford—and two sisters.  Funeral services will be held...'

            "Good God," Severus gasped as he finished the article.  "Several _months_?  What the hell has the Ministry been doing this entire time?"  He slammed the paper onto the table as smoke curled out of his ears and nostrils.

            "It's sickening.  I can't believe they just pluck innocent people out of nowhere..." Reign shook her head, too disgusted to even eat.  Severus picked up the article again.

            "Reign, do you know Caelan Decatur?"

            "Gryffindor, seventh year.  Sure…I've heard of her.  Why do you ask?"

            "Well," he began, "this morning in my class, she had this look about her..."

            "Yeah?"

            "She reminded me of the way I used to look..."

            "When?"

            "When I was younger."  He sipped his coffee.  "After Death Eater meetings."

            "What?"  Reign nearly laughed.  "Severus, honestly, why on Earth..."

            "I'm just telling you like I saw it, Reign," he said sternly.  "I'm worried about her.  And you know I don't worry about my students often, especially when it concerns what they do with their time outside of my classroom."

            "True...perhaps we should keep an eye on her?"

            "You read my mind."  He winked.

            "If only," Reign teased.

***

NOTE:  Sorry this is so short everyone, but as you know, I'm WAY TO _FREAKING _BUSY!  Haha.  Plus, I wanted to lighten this chapter up a little, because the previous (and the next) chapters were pretty heavy.  I'm hurrying as fast as I can!  Hope you're liking it.  Please let me know!


	4. Dinner

Wow, I will officially NEVER take advantage of my computer again (which includes hitting the monitor for being slow, pounding the keyboard, shaking the mouse like a madman, etc.).  I have literally been DYING to get online.  I won't go into details, but pretty much, my AOL account was suspended for some unknown reason, so we had to call and rebuild the entire account.  This happened approximately March 29th.  Then I went on Spring Break.  So guess what: no computer.  I was having Internet withdrawal.  Seriously!  Shakes and everything.  So I haven't been able to upload anything.  I wrote this chapter before I left for Tennessee (the greatest state in the U. S. of A. in my humble opinion).  And now that I'm back, I've tried numerous times to upload it…and ff.net is being dumb.  I'm going to resort to abusing my computer again.  I feel like pulling out all my hair.  Trust me…this is more painful for you than it is for me ;) I am so **_SORRY_** that I have kept you guys waiting for so long…if you review this chapter and continue this journey, it will mean so much to me.  (You really like me!)  So here's chapter four (it's semi-long and juicy).  I'm going to try something different with the titles of my chapters (sort of a Mark Twain deal, if you know what I mean).  Hope you like it.  Please review!

Chapter 4

Dinner—Hidden Room—Bad News

Dinner went by entirely too slow for Caelan.  She sat at her seat, the noise of the Great Hall pounding in her ears, threatening to cause her head to explode, staring at her chicken and vegetables, trying to avoid having to lift a finger in order to consume her meal.  The grilled chicken stared back, the charred lines from a grill curving into a frown, as if it was furious at her for leaving it to spoil upon her plate.  She imagined what it would be thinking if it still had a brain: after all that it had gone through, the monotonous yet carefree days of pecking at seed, baking in the sun, sleeping with others of its kind and the smell that came with it…this was the end.  If only it had known what its real purpose was…would it have tried to escape?  Caelan smirked at the though of a plump, clumsy hen trying to jump a barbed wire fence…feathers everywhere…

But it didn't know.  It had no idea.  

"The Finest White Meat in Western Europe!"  That's what the package had said.  Finest White Meat for humans to eat.  What a worthless function that was—especially when it was put upon a plate belonging to someone like Caelan…someone who wrinkled her nose at the thought of food when she was so exhausted and refused to eat.

            "Are you going to eat that?" Ron Weasley asked from a few seats down.  He had noticed the distant look in her eyes and—more importantly—the untouched food on her plate.

            "No, be my guest," she replied, reaching down as if in slow motion and handing her entire dish over to the redhead.  Caelan rolled her eyes as he began to shove her meal into his mouth.  "Pig," she mumbled as she folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently for time to pass.

Both Severus and Reign kept a watchful eye on Caelan as she sat at her seat, though from opposite ends of the staff table.  It had been weeks since Reign had sat next to Professor Saxon.  Severus sipped his pumpkin juice and watched over the rim as the elf laughed.  He was jealous; he wanted her next to him, laughing with him.  His fingers twisted along his glass as the fires of jealousy burned in his eyes.  His obvious discomfort seemed to attract the elf; as he brought his goblet back down he caught her eye, and she winked.  

Caelan was looking even more out of place than she had been in his class earlier that day.  Anger consumed her features; her brows fell upon her eyes in a scowl directed toward no one in particular, her lips were pressed tightly against one another, and her jaw muscles flexed as she grinded her teeth.  It was if Hogwarts was the last place she wanted to be…like she'd rather be in the woods, bathed in black, next to a roaring fire, doing God-knows-what for the Dark Lord.

He couldn't put it out of his mind.  Yes, Reign had laughed at him, and in a small portion of his mind he doubted even himself, but the greater portion trusted his impulses.  He recognized that attitude; he was all too familiar with the way she looked and acted—or didn't act.  Normally one of the bravest and most spontaneous individuals he had ever known, she had now shunned herself from her teachers, fellow students, and even her friends.  

Even Stanton Raigo was getting ridiculed for his rather annoying curiosity.

Which Snape didn't totally object to.

But he didn't think it was very healthy for one of his female students to be involved with the Dark Lord.  He rarely allowed females into his circle—when he did, these women were much older, with experience in the field of Dark Magic.  

Why was she so special?  

Reign sat with her head in one hand, running her finger over the edge of her wine glass, listening to the sweet tone of its singing with one ear and with the other trying to catch words here and there of Helena's rambling.  Her eyes were fluttering back and forth from an uptight Severus to an extremely disgruntled Caelan.

As much as she enjoyed spending time with Helena, tonight there were more pressing issues to discuss other than what insane folly Neville Longbottom had manifested in her Defense Against the Dark Arts class.  The professor laughed hysterically as she recalled the events; Reign gave a weak smile.

            "Hey, what's up with you, Reign?  You seem like you're…not all here."  Reign pulled herself from the table, communicating an apologetic smile to Helena.

            "You're right.  I'm sorry.  My mind is elsewhere this evening."

            "Do you want to talk about it?"  Reign looked passed Professor Saxon's head and into the dark eyes of Severus Snape at the end of the table.  He gave a small smile and nodded in her direction.

            "No, it's nothing."  Helena didn't seem convinced, but she shrugged her shoulders and let it slide.

            "Stanton, I swear to _God_, if you don't stop pestering me I will hex you so bad your mother won't even recognize you!"  Raigo was interrogating Caelan…again.

            "Jeez, I'm sorry Caelan."  He put a warm hand on her shoulder.  "It's just that…you're my friend…and I'm worried about you."  Caelan brushed his hand off and refused to meet his gaze.  _God_ she wanted to get out of there so bad.

Severus had stopped watching over Caelan at about the time that he nodded at Reign.  She had let a slight smirk escape the inquiring stare of Professor Saxon, and now he sat transfixed on her as she conversed with the Dark Arts professor.  

She had on her coat—the sleek black one she had bought that day in Hogsmeade.  It was _she_ who made the _coat_ look amazing, not the other way around.  It reminded him of one of those jackets the captain of a pirate ship would wear in times only experienced through storytelling.  He imagined her standing at the helm of her ship, hands folded behind her back, watching over her crew, with the wind gently rustling her white hair, playing across her body as the sun highlighted her angelic frame…

Though she made the cover look extremely feminine, she had a powerful aura about her when she wore it.  Her gloves lay beside her plate as she ate, and Severus could barely make out her crescent-shaped scars engraved upon her wrists.  He shuddered at the memory…the blood.

As he stared, he noticed a head bobbing up and down above the shoulders bathed in the obsidian coat and hands waving discreetly in his direction.

As soon as the Headmaster had risen from his chair, dinner was over.  Caelan had disappeared in the mass of students heading to their dorms for the night.  Reign was frantically trying to get Snape's attention to signal that she had slipped away from them.  She pointed to the crowd, and Severus followed her finger.  When he turned back, his eyes were slightly larger than they had been before he noticed she had gone.

            "_Should we follow her?"_ Reign mouthed to him.  Severus shook his head sternly and got up from his seat.  The elf watched as he strode toward her, and—not even noticing or caring—the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as he leaned down and spoke to her.

            "We need to discuss this with the Headmaster before we go stalking one of the students."

            "Right…" Reign replied as he helped her from her seat.

***

The moonlight seemed to be following Caelan as she walked through the empty corridors.  It immersed her in a ghostly light, watching over her, wishing she could hear its warnings.  

But her ears were not as sensitive, and so on she walked.  The click her boots made against the stony floor of her path also escaped her ears; not a single care passed through her mind.  She walked on, not caring where, as long as she didn't have to put up with those impulsive and foolish Gryffindors that she was forced to room with.  They had grown increasingly annoying over the past few months.  Ever since…

A cold breeze rushed through the hall and ruffled her robes.  Caelan shuddered and wrapped her arms tighter around her body.

Was she being brainwashed?  Certainly not.  No one would ever be able to manipulate Caelan Decatur.  And yet she felt so…odd.  As if she didn't belong.  But not just in Hogwarts, or in the wizarding world…but as a member of the human race altogether.

The Dark Lord had promised her that she would find her place among his Death Eaters.  She would have power, respect, and people who cared for her.  Growing up in an orphanage all of her life had hardened her heart and her attitude, and yet she still ached to be loved.  The Dark Lord promised that, also.  Love.  

Caelan hoped that the horrific things she had experienced were worth it.  

Her mind drifted back to that poor young witch, whom she had witnessed being raped numerous times and finally murdered.  It disgusted her…and yet she did nothing about it.

But did it disgust her that much?  After all, it was the girl's own damned fault she had stumbled into the forest that night.  

Fate is funny like that.

A sinister smile crept across Caelan's face as she stalked down the corridor, her feet commanding her movements, her mind drifting like a madman.  Finally her pacing stopped; her feet halted in front of a large door—slightly hidden in the shadows, but quite noticeable at that moment, for there came a soft light from behind the dark wood…beckoning her, calling out.  It fell upon her features as she stepped in its range, trying to get a peek of what lay beyond the door.  She moved closer, listening to the crackling fire, wondering who was inside.

            "You may enter, Miss Decatur."  Her head snapped back at the sound of her name.  She recognized that voice, but failed to recall the name of its owner.  Curiosity tugged at her body, pulling her forward.  She had to know, to be reminded, so she slowly pushed the door open and slipped inside.

Whoever had spoken to her sat silently against a chair facing the fire.  Opposite the fireplace was an enormous four-poster bed bathed in dark green with silver lining…the colors of Slytherin.  Behind it the wall was covered entirely with windows.  

Outside the moon had finally given up on her.

She let her eyes travel around the room; the spacious living area, the high ceilings, the far wall lined with book upon book, and then back to the chairs by the fire—and the pale blonde hair that grazed the top cushion.

            "I've been waiting for you."  The voice seemed to summon her rather than merely make a harmless statement; it pulled the young woman to the empty chair.  As she came into his view, a great smile graced his handsome face.  Caelan couldn't help but blush.

            "Mr. Malfoy.  I'm surprised to see you here."  The man laughed.

            "Please, call me Lucius," he said.  "This is the room where the Headmaster has let me stay in case my work at Hogwarts keeps me overnight," he explained.  "Please, have a seat."  Caelan obliged, sinking into the soft cushion of the high chair.  Lucius reached for a bottle of wine on a table to his right.  

            "Care for a drink?"  Caelan snorted, but was silenced when Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her.

            "No, thank you," she said quietly.

            "Very well then," he replied, refilling his own glass.  As he drank, his eyes never left the young woman sitting adjacent from him.  She was almost an exact replica of Reign, though much more immature.  His gaze made her feel slightly uneasy, and she resorted to folding her hands and biting her bottom lip because of it.

Lucius leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

            "You know, biting your lip won't enhance your beauty anymore than it is presently."  His voice was honey to her ears.  She immediately let go of her bottom lip and gazed into his swirling gray eyes.  He smiled inwardly as her cheeks glowed red.  Besides looking terribly uncomfortable, she looked as if she was itching to ask him something.

            "What is it, dear?"

He called her 'dear'.  _Good God_.  She almost forgot what she was going to ask as his smile grew wider to show his perfect teeth.

            "Um, well, you see…" she sighed.  "Is that all Death Eaters do?  Rape and murder innocent people?"  She instantly wished to retract her question; she hadn't meant for it to be so blunt, but it was exactly what she was thinking, worrying about.  

Lucius leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his wine.  His movements were slow and steady, graceful and seductive.

            "The Dark Lord's methods may be a bit…unconventional, but it's his minions that give a bad name to Death Eaters."  He leaned forward again.  "Not all of us are so barbaric."  He winked; Caelan nearly passed out.

_God he's sexy.  _A strand of pale blonde hair fell into his eyes, communicating a look of innocence, of sincerity.  Before she even thought about the consequences, Caelan reached up and removed it.

Lucius took advantage of this opportunity and caught her wrist before she had time to remove her hand.  He felt her body instantly go rigid, her fingers flexed and her eyes widened, if only for a moment.  His own heart was beating faster than normal.

She looked so much like the elf.  If not for her human ears and darker hair, he would most surely have mistaken her for Reign.  But she was beautiful nevertheless.

And even if he couldn't seduce Reign, he knew this young minx would not be able to resist him.  So his smile grew abnormally wide as he placed her hand on his cheek.  It was insanely cold; she was so nervous being alone with him.  But that anxiety would soon pass.

Caelan flinched as he brought her hand to his cheek.  It was warm from facing the fire for so long.  And _Lord_ was it soft.  She let her thumb rub the tiny hairs of his cheek as he closed his eyes.  Soon enough her eyes were closed, also, as she caressed the soft skin of the older man sitting in front of her.  Only when he pulled her to her feet did her eyes open.  Lucius slipped one arm around her waist—pulling her securely against his body—and placed his opposite hand on her cheek.  Like his face, his palm was also warm, soothing.  Caelan's hand fell from his cheek and rested upon his chest.

He was dressed in one of those suits she had seen in reference books on 19th century fashion…a waistcoat with tails, a black collar shirt, a vest (oh _Lord_ how she loved a man in a vest), and long pleated pants with the sexiest boots she had ever seen.  And all of his attire was black.  Nothing like what Professor Snape always draped over his sorry ass, but an impeccably clean cut and form-fitting attire.  And beneath his vest (oh Lord…a _vest!_)she felt the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.  She could have died a happy woman right at that very moment.

The girl fit surprisingly well in his arms…just as Reign had.  The effect he was having on her nearly caused him to burst out laughing, but Lucius bit his own lip and kept his cool.  He leaned forward, pulling the girl closer to him as he whispered in her ear.

            "Caelan, I promise that I will always be here for you.  To protect you, to comfort you, to help you when you need it."  He rested his head against hers.  "The Dark Lord has chosen you because you deserve all the joy and prosperity that he can give you.  He cares for you, though I hardly think as much as I…" Caelan pulled back.  Malfoy sighed at the look in her eyes.  "Do you remember all that he promised you?"  The girl in his arms nodded.  "His last promise…do you remember that?  He promised you would be loved.  And not just by anyone…only he who the Dark Lord deems worthy, and is able to care for you and love you like no other."  He lifted her chin.  "He thinks I am most worthy, and has approved of my declaration of love.  Will you not approve, also?"

Caelan nodded as she leaned forward into his kiss.  It was soft, yet strong, and wholly comforting.  It was the kiss of a man…a man with experience in such a field.

            "Wait," she gasped, pulling back for air.  "Aren't you married?"  Lucius rolled his eyes.  

            "Yes, but nothing will keep me from serving you," he replied as he kissed her once more.  He avoided the question perfectly by making Caelan feel more special than she really was.  Losing himself in the kiss, Lucius imagined Reign's lips pressed against his, her tongue eagerly probing his mouth, her body grinding into his.  He wondered how much experience Caelan had had with men as he pulled her over to the bed.  She certainly seemed to know what she was doing.

He didn't take his lips from hers as he undressed her.  Caelan froze as he slid her robes off onto the mattress and pulled her shirt over her head.  His hands slid down her body, sending obvious chills up and down her spine.  He leaned forward, pulling Caelan into an intimate embrace, and kissed her neck gently.  A small groan escaped the woman's throat as her eyes closed against his hair. 

            "Wait," she panted, pulling away from him and restraining him with both hands on his chest, "I've never done this before."

Lucius nearly exploded.

            "That's fine," he said, leaning down to kiss her once more.  "Better a man than some idiotic seventh year Gryffindor, wouldn't you agree?" he said as he slid her bra off, leaving her upper body completely exposed.

            "Oh _God_ yes…"

Caelan waited for his next move, but Lucius had stopped.  He was staring at her chest, just above her where her heart resided.

            "It's just a birthmark," she answered as he caressed her skin there.  The crescent shape was hauntingly familiar…for more reason than one.  His eyes snapped up to hers.

            "Yes, of course it is," he reassured himself as he slipped off his coat and beckoned for Caelan to remove his vest.

***

            "This is quite a serious accusation, Severus…Reign."

            "We know, Professor."  Snape and the elf sat in Dumbledore's office, their heads lowered as they nearly regretted their decision to inform the Headmaster of their suspicions.

            "But…if it is true, something needs to be done right away.  I refuse to stand by and watch a student of mine fall into the hands of Voldemort."

            "I agree," stated Reign.  Severus gave her a curious look.  "Well I _do_."

            "Have either of you spoken to Miss Decatur yourselves?"  Both adults shook their heads.

            "I don't think that is such a wise idea, Professor," Severus said.  "She's not exactly a big fan of mine—"  

            "Yes, and she doesn't even know me."  Reign laughed, "That would certainly be odd…" Both men nodded.

            "Very well then, I shall speak with her."  He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, signaling the end of their meeting.

            "Oh, Albus," Severus said as they made their way to the door, "if I recall, Lucius Malfoy is infamous for convincing young promising Death Eaters to persuade them to join the Dark Lord's ranks—"

            "Really?" the old wizard asked, the usual twinkle now absent from his eyes.  "Oh dear…"

            "What is it, Albus?" Reign asked, rushing back up to his desk.

            "Hmm…well…as luck should have it, Lucius asked for his usual room tonight, saying something to the effect of 'I was planning an evening with Draco, and since Narcissa is away at present, and no one but the repulsive house elves are in the house…'"

Reign slapped her head; Severus had to stable himself on the desk.  

            "Shit," he said.

***

NOTE:  Muwahaha…like I was going to write a love scene as vivid as some other writers…sorry for those of you who like that stuff, but I just wasn't able to do it.  So I leave it at what I left it at.  Hope you'll forgive me!  A/N:  Remember that I am writing in an omniscient third person point of view, where (lucky me) I am able to delve into the minds of all of the characters; this explains Caelan's comment about Nivah and her views on Lucius.

***

Please review.


	5. The Vow

Sorry this took so long…golf, work, you know.  Hope you like it!

Chapter Five

The vow—A kiss

Reign stood at her window, looking out over the land, as an angel would, or a queen.  Her arms hung loosely across her chest, her posture relaxed against the wall.  A cool breeze met the humid air of her bedroom—Reign closed her eyes and let the spirit of the wind whisper to her, cool her in those hot spring months.

Summer was drawing near, as was graduation...for Caelan, for Harry.  And so was Severus' promise.  He vowed to travel with her to her homeland, so that she may find some resolution to her grief.  As the days dragged on, Reign longed for the journey back home.  She would have dreams of what her land used to look like, before the destruction.  Laughter would ring in her ears long after she awoke from the memories.  She was itching to climb atop Cypress and run off into the sunset as she did so many years ago.

Reign shivered.  A lot had changed since she first arrived at Hogwarts._  She _had changed a lot since then.  At that time she was running away from her past, and now all she wanted to do was embrace it, salvage what was left of it.

***

            "I want to go home."

            "Pardon?"

They were in his classroom, a week earlier, passing the time together.  Reign had resorted to such a pastime, just watching Severus as he worked.  At first he was turned off by the idea, telling her she could find a much better way to spend her time.  Reign had retorted by reminding him that she had all the time in the world.

            "I want to go home."  She was sitting by the window, watching the moon as it cast its luminous glow over the land.  Severus turned to her.  She resembled an ancient goddess, wrapped in her winter cloak and her black coat (it was unusually cold in his classroom that night), with her pale hair reflecting the light of the moon.  He was stunned at her appearance and her interruption—she obviously had not been paying attention to their discussion.

            "That was a bit random, wouldn't you say?"  Reign turned slowly toward him, her emerald eyes piercing his obsidian ones.

            "I'm sorry," she said after a moment.  "I'm just anxious, I suppose."  Snape turned back to his papers.

            "A few more weeks, Reign.  Just be patient."

***

And now, as she stood at the window in her bedroom, her patience had run out.  A tear fell slowly from her eye.  She felt like a bird trapped in a cage; she longed to break free and fly away.  

Nothing was really stopping her.  Only her own heart.  She wanted so badly for Severus to go with her.  Knowing she would need someone there to hold her when it came time to face her past.

A few more weeks.

After graduation.

That's what they had been discussing that night.  What to do about graduation.

About Caelan.  

Her bond with Voldemort was nearly indestructible.  There was no doubt as to where she would go after her time at Hogwarts.  To the one man who promised her everything...through another.

***

            "What is your fascination with this?"

The night of Caelan's seduction, she laid in Malfoy's bed, his blonde head rested against her breast, his finger traced the crescent birthmark over and over.  

            "Lucius?"

            "Hmm?"  He looked like a young child, playing with a toy he did not know how to work.

            "What are you not telling me?"  The circling stopped.  Everything stopped.  The only feelings were of moist skin and hot breath.  Caelan shuddered at Malfoy's breathing; it was slow and steady.  He lifted his head to meet her eyes.  She raised an eyebrow at him.

            "Has the Dark Lord told you of your true origins?" he asked as he lowered his head.

            "Only that he created me."

            "And how did you take that news?"

            "I figured that he is my father."  Caelan felt Lucius' laugh below her as he chuckled against her chest.

            "If that were the case, he would have _told_ you he was your father."

            "I don't understand."

            "Caelan," he said, rising once more to meet her gaze, "he _created_ you."

            "For God's sake, Lucius, I heard that already!  What the bloody hell does it mea—" Lucius put his finger to her lips, silencing her.  He rested his head and continued tracing her 'birthmark'.

            "When the elf first arrived at Hogwarts, she did so to escape the Dark Lord's wrath, but it was a very foolish move on her part.  The Dark Lord was watching her every move through a precious stone he had stolen from the Archives of the Ministry.  

"It was one of the seven sacred emeralds—believed to be some of the most powerful magical items in the world.  

"It was rumored that they were scattered throughout the world, but that one of which had fallen into the hands of an elvin tribe a thousand years ago."  Lucius paused as Caelan shifted under him.  "The Dark Lord found out about this through a very reliable source, broke into the Ministry, stole the emerald they had, and used it against Reign.  

"Her powers and the emerald's powers are one, and are shared with the rest of the stones.  The night he brought her to the woods was the night he created you."  Caelan took a deep breath as Lucius kissed her collarbone.  

"He never wanted that silly potion of the elf's...what he was really after was a strand of her hair, and a drop of her blood.  After she ran off we were summoned to defeat the foolish animals of the forest while our master brewed a most powerful potion...one that would create a creature of his liking.  

"He was rather fond of Reign's looks, and especially of her powers.  After he lifted your small body from the cauldron, he held you in his arms and drew the emerald from his pocket.  He placed it above your heart and spoke an inaudible spell.  A bright green light blinded us all and before we knew it, your soft skin had swallowed the stone, leaving this mark."  Caelan's sharp intake of breath created a smile upon Malfoy's lips.  He lifted those lips to hers and kissed her softly, moving from her mouth, to her neck, and finally to her mark.  He smiled at the small bumps popping out of her skin.

            "This is why you can feel her pain..."  He took her skin into his teeth and relished at her gasp.  "Her pleasure..."  Sucking the same skin in, he traced his hands over her body.  "Her powers..."  He moved back up to her lips, kissing her harder than before.

            "Why didn't he just use the emerald for himself?" she asked, pushing him away.  Lucius sighed.

            "Because a stone like that can only be truly effective if it is given to someone upon their birth.  That is why it works for Reign, and that is why it works for you."  He kissed her softly once again, whispering into her mouth.  "You are destined for the Dark Lord's ranks, Caelan.  It is only fitting that you rejoin your creator while you are still in your prime."  He moved himself so he was directly over the woman.  "You must promise your allegiance to him."  He nipped her ear, pressing her harder into the mattress.  

            "Yes," she breathed.

            "Say the words," he said into her ear, making her shiver.

            "I vow my mind..."        

            "Yes..."

            "Body..."          

            "Yes..."

            "And soul..."

            "Yes..."

            "To my one and only master..."

            "Mmm hmm," he said into her hair.

            "To the Dark Lord I give myself..."

            "Yes...yes...finish it..."

            "May he welcome me as his own, and do with me as he wishes—" Caelan gasped.  "So that the world will fall on its knees before us, and a new Order shall begin."  The woman wrapped her arms around Lucius, kissing him with every last ounce of strength she had.  Her lover laughed in her mouth, pulling back to look into her eyes.  He brushed a strand of hair from her brow as his own fell upon her face and neck.

            "Good girl," he whispered.

***

That same moment, both Reign and Harry sprang from their beds.  Their scars burned and their minds raced with fragments of horrible nightmares.  Harry's pain died quickly, and he was left with a dull throbbing as he laid his head back onto his pillow and fell asleep.

Reign, however, could not ignore the pain coming from her side and wrists.  She swung her legs over the side of her bed and rested her head in her hands.  The nightmare she experienced was a flashback of what she assumed was the young girl's death she had read about in the Daily Prophet.  Tears fell silently down her cheeks as she lifted herself from her mattress and paced around her room.

Not only had Nivah's death been shown to her, but another, more horrible vision, also.  Her view was from beside a fireplace, in a bedroom she presumed was at Hogwarts.  Facing the bed, she saw Lucius making love to her.  

And she seemed to be enjoying it.  

His pale hair covered her own, but the female voice was unmistakably her own.  

Reign grabbed her robe and threw open her bedroom door, determined to get a decent night's sleep, even if it meant breaking into the Infirmary.  She had run out of her supply Sleeping Draught, and as she rounded the corner she ran into the only person besides Madam Pomfrey who had a stash of his own.

            "Oomph," she grunted as she ran head on into Snape's chest.  He quickly took hold of her shoulders before she fell back onto the ground.

            "Reign?" he asked into the darkness, the elf's hair the only feature that distinguished her from students in the dim moonlight.

            "Severus...what are you..."

            "Doing my rounds, of course," he replied coldly, straightening his robes and smoothing back his hair.  "It's late, what are you doing up?"        

            "I couldn't sleep...again."  She looked down at her feet.  "Do you think I could borrow some of your Sleeping Draught?" she asked, raising her head to look pleadingly into his eyes.

            "Reign, you know you can become addicted..."

            "I don't care...if it lets me get some bloody sleep than so be it."  Her eyes were ablaze and her fingers dug into his robes.

            "All right, all right.  Just...calm yourself, woman," he said, pulling her talons from his chest.

They walked in silence to the dungeons, to his domain.  Reign wanted desperately to tell him of her dream about Nivah, but the words would not come.  The part about her and Lucius would never be revealed.

            "Two sips, Reign, that's all it takes," Severus said, handing her the vial from his office.  She sat on his bed, her feet dangling above the rug.  He turned his back on her and she disobeyed him.  

Two sips were enough for a human, an elf needs at least...Reign counted in her head as she lifted the vial to her lips...five sips.  She downed nearly half the bottle, taking gulps instead of sips.  When Severus turned around she had on a lazy smile.  He looked down to her hands and his eyes grew wide.  Rushing toward her he tore the bottle from her grasp, staring at her with extreme agitation.

            "Reign..."

            "Severus..." she teased, punching him in the chest.  She belched as he stomped back to his desk and threw the vial on top of a stack of papers.  When he turned around again, Reign had fallen on her back.  Crossing his arms, Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sighed.  Then—rolling his eyes—he moved toward her.  Careful not to wake her, he pulled her robe from her shoulders, turned down the covers of his own bed, and slipped her between them.  He pulled the sheets over her and smiled at her gaping mouth.  Shaking his head, he lifted her chin to close the gap.  

He didn't move for a long time, leaning over her to watch her sleep.  Something came over him as he traced her tattoo beneath her eye and the lines of her youthful face.  He ended his path at her lips, wondering if she would even feel it, if he dared tried to...

She stirred beneath him, causing him to spring backwards.  

            _Get a hold of yourself, man, he told himself.  _

The clock next to his bed said it was midnight already.  If any students were out of their beds now, they surely wouldn't be in the halls...

Severus removed his robes and undid the countless buttons upon his frock coat and vest beneath.  He pulled off his shoes and undid the first two buttons of his shirt, and then he climbed into bed next to Reign.

It had been a long time since they had lain next to each other as they did that night.  Severus was asleep faster than he had ever been before.

Reign awoke an hour later to find Snape's arm had found its way across her body.  His head rested against her own, his slow breathing sending the hairs on her neck spiraling upward.

But it was so comforting.

Like old times.

So she placed her hand on top of his, and let the potion take over once more.

The next time she woke, it was three o' clock.  The scratching of a quill against paper had stirred her from her rest.  As her eyes focused against the harsh light of the candles in front of her, she noticed Severus sitting at his desk, scribbling fiercely, his hair disheveled and his white shirt laying carelessly open.

Reign stayed frozen as she watched him work...with passion.  His hands moved across the parchment so effortlessly...his hair fell into his eyes and he didn't care to reposition it...the muscles in his forearm flexed as he wrote and tossed papers into their appropriate piles.

Unconsciously, Reign took a deep breath.  The writing stopped.  Severus raised his head and locked eyes with the elf.  

She was caught.  Giving a weak smile, she lifted herself from the soft pillow.

            "How long have you been awake?" he asked, returning to his work.  Reign wrapped her arms around her knees.

            "Not long."  She gazed into the fireplace, her eyes clouding over from lack of sleep.  It seems half a vial wasn't even enough for her.  Throwing off the sheets, she sauntered over to his desk.  "What are you doing?" she asked, looking over his shoulder.

            "I should think that is quite obvious," he mumbled.

            "Okay, what I meant was...why?"  He stopped again.  Her presence over his shoulder was making his upper lip twitch.

            "I couldn't sleep," came his cold reply.

            "Oh..."  Reign returned to the bed and jumped up to sit on it.  With her hands folded in her lap, she studied the man before her.  After a long pause, she spoke softly.

            "Maybe I should go."

            "What?" he snapped, bringing his head up.  "Why?"

            "It's obvious I'm the reason you're not getting any sleep."  Snape's mouth opened to protest.  "I should be sleeping in my own bed anyway."  She hopped off the bed and gathered her robe.  "Thank you for the potion, Severus," she said as she made her way to the door.  Before her hand reached the handle, however, a voice stopped her.

            "Wait," Severus choked from his position.  Reign turned around to see him get up and walk toward her.  "Are you going to be all right?  I know we changed your room around, but sometimes I think it had little affect."    

            "I'll be fine, Severus.  Really, I will.  You should get some rest, too."  She turned from him.

            "Wait," he said again, more desperately.  "Don't go."  Reign looked into his pleading eyes and let her hand drop from the handle.  "Really, just stay."  

            "Severus..." she warned as he took her hand and led her back to the bed.  He sat down and pulled her down next to him.  She pulled her robe tight to her chest and avoided his gaze as he pushed a stray strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

            "God your beautiful," he whispered.  Reign's head immediately shot up.  "I'm sorry," he quickly recovered.  "It's just...we were so close..." Reign closed her eyes as his warm fingers lingered on her cheek.

            _Get a hold of yourself, elf._

            "Severus...I've already told you..."

            "I know," he said sadly as his hand left her face and fell into his lap.  He turned away from her as she gazed at him.  Laying a hand on his shoulder, she said softly,

            "Severus, my life...I'm going through extremely hard times...what I need more than anything right now..."  She pulled his chin toward her.  "What I need is a friend...not a lover."  Her statement took him by surprise.  It was so...honest.

            "I understand," he replied.  And from the look on his face, Reign knew that he really did understand, and she smiled.  

Suddenly a wave washed over her and Time stood still. 

Reign threw up her hands in disgust and shook her head.  She sighed deeply as she looked at Severus, and cocked her head as she noticed a rather surprised look on his face.  His lips stood partially open.

They looked rather inviting.

Reign stared longingly at them.  

Then she leaned forward.

_One kiss wouldn't hurt, right?_

She hesitated...as long as Time wouldn't fool with her and continue right in the middle of it.

_Please...oh please...I'm doing this for him, _she said as her lips touched his.  His frozen mouth welcomed her.  It was an odd feeling—kissing someone who didn't kiss back, but didn't refuse you either.  She willed Time to stay as it was, so she could savor the moment.  He tasted of fire whiskey.  The bittersweet taste melted her body and she completely lost herself.

When she finally pulled back, he was still wearing the same expression on his face, though his lips were red and in an awkward position.  Smiling to herself, Reign lifted the sides of his mouth, kneading the skin until it was in the desired position.  Then she slowly got up and exited the room, mumbling a thanks and goodnight to Severus.

When she left, Time continued in the normal fashion, and Severus snapped his mouth shut.

He had been smiling.

Looking frantically around the room for the elf, he stopped abruptly at the door.

And then the tingling sensation crept over his lips.  His eyes widened as he touched the skin there, realizing just what had happened.  And then a true smirk spread over his face.

***

Reign stood at her window, touching her own lips, remembering that kiss that seemed so long ago, though it was only the previous night.  Closing the window, she walked slowly to the door, as if in a dream, and walked into the vast body of Hogwart's castle, down to breakfast.

***

Please review.


	6. Breakfast

Disclaimer:  Not only do I not own Harry Potter or his world, but I also wish to apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes.  If they exist, please let me know.  (And just because I don't own the world now, doesn't mean I won't in the future…)

*trumpets announce the entrance of the sixth chapter* Ahem.  *unrolls scroll*  The author of this story wishes to apologize for the unreasonably long delay while she wrote the following chapter.  She hopes that you will refrain from throwing large stones at her and leaving nasty reviews.  She also hopes that you enjoy this.  *rolls up scroll*

chapter six

breakfast—a new wave—repulsion

The atmosphere of the Great Hall that morning was one filled with joy, dread, and sorrow.  Joy, because the year was almost up; summer was drawing nearer by the hour.  Dread, because the end of the term meant exams were also coming.  And sorrow, because—for the seventh years—the end of their Hogwarts career was an arms' reach away.

Reign noticed these emotions as she entered the expansive area.  Glancing around her as she made her way to the head of the room, she could feel the electricity sparking in many of the students' eyes.  It seemed the only two in the hall who looked as if they had just eaten a bogey-flavored Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean were Harry Potter and his best friend Ron Weasley.  Hermione Granger, on the other hand, seemed ecstatic.

            "Morning everyone," Reign said cheerfully as she approached the Gryffindor table and placed a hand on Ron's shoulder.  He was probably glad she couldn't see his beet-red face, despite knowing that she had felt his obvious flinch at her touch.  

            "You two seem all too excited to be here this morning," she said sarcastically to the two sulking boys.

            "Hermione's just been saying how excited she is about exams," Harry answered.  Reign raised an eyebrow at their brown-haired friend, who beamed.

            "Ah, I see," she said, taking her hand off of Ron's shoulder, "well, good luck on your very last exams..._ever_."  Reign smirked as Hermione's smile faded and her friend's eyes' brightened.

The light-stepping elf caught Snape's eye as he sipped his morning tea.  He nodded to her as she approached the table; she winked in return.  Reign jumped, clearing the table, and landed gracefully on the other side.  Her cheeks glowed a slight pink as the occupants of the Great Hall took heed of her newfound joy.  

            "Morning," she whispered to Severus as her breakfast platter appeared before her.  

            "You seem to be in a very good mood this morning..." the man inquired.

            "And you're not?"

            "Should I have a reason to be?"  Reign looked hard into his eyes.

            "No, I suppose not..." she drifted off, slightly disappointed.  Perhaps her kiss went unnoticed by the Potions Master.  "Sleep well last night?" she asked hopefully.  Severus dropped his fork; Reign could hardly suppress her laughter.

            "Despite being quite distracted...especially right before you disappeared..."

            "Oh yes, about that..." Reign said, trying to act like she had forgotten.

            "I thought you needed a friend right now..."

            "I do—"

            "Well, it wasn't very _friendly_ of you to ignite our old flame without my knowing or consent.  Nor was it friendly of you to leave without notice."

            "Yes, I suppose that wasn't very _friendly_ of me," Reign chuckled.  "My sincerest apologies."  She laid a hand on his shoulder and placed the other over her heart.  "How can I ever make it up to you?"

            "Don't worry," Severus replied as he placed a fork full of eggs in his mouth, "I'll think of something."  Reign smiled and turned her gaze to her breakfast.

            "This looks absolutely delicious.  Who prepares all this food?"

            "House elves, of course."  Reign froze.

            "_House elves?" she echoed._

            "I'm sorry, was my English not plain enough for you?  Yes, I said 'house elves'."  Reign threw her head back in a fit of laughter.

            "You've got to be joking me!  _House elves?  How could such low-life, bottom-of-the-magic-chain creatures like those be responsible for something as extravagant as this?" she asked, pointing to the beautiful platter in front of her.  Severus placed his fork on his plate and scrutinized his companion._

            "Do you have something against house elves?"

            "Doesn't everybody?"  Severus smirked, not entirely believing what he was hearing.  He picked his fork back up, muttering, "Just be sure not to mention your opinions toward the servants of Hogwarts to Miss Granger..."

Reign hardly touched her breakfast, seemingly disgusted with the fact that such a creature prepared her meal.  Needless to say, Severus was quite taken back by her behavior.  He had never known Reign to be so volatile toward something that she seemed to have spent little time with.  He decided to say something when she started poking at her potatoes, her nose an inch away from her fork.

            "Reign, honestly, what is so wrong with house elves?"  He was immediately surprised at his own question, for it made him seem the less hostile person, when usually the opposite was true.

            "Do you even _know_ house elves?" she spat at him, her eyes narrowing with every word.  "They are not worthy of the title _elves_.  They are lowest of the low, Kor's joke for the rest of the Elvin species to laugh at.  Their magic is nothing more than illusions.  They are small, helpless, pitiful creatures who don't deserve the pillowcases they walk around in."  She threw her fork on her plate, sat back in her chair, and folded her arms across her chest.

Snape stared in disbelief.

            "And this hostility comes from knowing such a creature?" he asked hopefully.

            "What?  I don't need to _know a house elf to _despise_ a house elf."  Severus clicked his tongue.  _

            "Mm hmm," he said, shaking his head.  Reign noticed his disapproving tone.

            "What, and _you enjoy their company, do you?"  He didn't answer.  As he picked up a fork full of potatoes, Reign rubbed her eyebrow in thought._

            "Remind me to go to the library sometime today."

            "What for?"

            "I need to try and find some sort of hint as to why..." she trailed off.  She could feel it coming.  That wave, of Time stopping, of freedom.  She sat silently in her seat, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes darting in their sockets, waiting.  

When it finally came, she stole several quick bites of her breakfast, starving from lack of food, hoping that the world would stay still long enough so Severus wouldn't see her.

Meanwhile, in the middle of a rather uneventful meal for Caelan, something rather noteworthy happened.  She, too, was poking at her food when she felt an eerie stillness wash over her.  Looking up when everything became silent, her heart jumped into her throat.  Everything had stopped.  Even she had stopped, frozen to her seat.  Only her head and her chest moved.  Her breathing increased rapidly as she became more anxious about her situation.  

And then she heard a noise.

It was the scraping of a fork against a plate.

Caelan turned slowly toward the source of the noise and noticed, at the staff table, that the elf had also not been affected by this most peculiar event.  Not wanting to catch her attention, Caelan leaned back, putting Seamus Finnigan's profile in between her and Reign.

When her meal was half gone, Reign stopped eating.  She wiped her mouth and sighed at the sight of her plate—like _that_ wasn't going to go unnoticed.  As she quickly attempted to refill her plate, something caught her eye.

Movement.

From the Gryffindor table.  

She had to blink several times, but she definitely saw it—the heavy breathing of a seventh year, the darting of her head and eyes, the frigidness of her body.  Reign leaned more to the right to get a better look, but it was too late.  The explosion of noise signaled the end of the wave as Time continued its journey.  She watched Caelan for a few moments after—not entirely coming back to her senses—and it was obvious she had not been affected by this most recent spectacular, which Reign found most intriguing.  

            "As to why…" Severus repeated, trying to hint to her to continue the conversation she had started.  The change in her position told him immediately that she had experienced another 'wave'.  She was practically on his lap, eyes narrowed toward the Gryffindor table.  He followed her gaze to Caelan, who was shaking so badly she looked as if she would shatter like a mirror at that very moment.

            "What is it now?" he whispered into her hair.  Whether it was the sound of his voice that brought her back or the touch of his breath against her skin, she snapped back so suddenly she nearly fell over in her chair.  Severus had just enough time to grab the sleeve of her coat before she fell into Professor Flitwick's lap, though he could hardly contain his laughter while doing so.  His ridiculous smirk caused Reign to collapse into her own fit of giggles while she regained her balance on her chair.

            "Sorry," she choked out while wiping away the tears falling down her cheeks.

            "Quite understandable," he replied sarcastically.  "As I was saying…what is it now?"  Reign looked curiously at him, to which he raised a finger to Caelan.

            "Oh, that…I guess I'm just still worried about her."  

Severus couldn't shake the feeling she was lying, especially as breakfast ended and she shot out of her seat to follow the students out of the Great Hall.  As she leaped over the table, he shouted to her, "Don't forget about the library, Reign."  She nodded to him, smiling with her brilliant white teeth.  The tingling sensation he felt when only her saliva met his body and practically melted his insides invaded his soul then without even the slightest contact.

He hoped no one noticed.

***

Reign slipped easily through the masses, keeping a sharp eye on Caelan as she drifted farther from the group.  As she turned down an isolated corridor, so too did the elf.  Silently following the girl, Reign stuck close to the shadows.  They seemed to walk for an eternity.  

When the girl stopped, Reign nearly jumped out of her skin, and had to clasp her mouth to keep from gasping.

Lucius Malfoy stepped into the dim light of the hall, his face lighting up upon laying eyes on Caelan.  She let out a squeal and ran into his arms, kissing him deeply.

            "Last night was _amazing,_" she whispered as she pulled back from their kiss.

            "Indeed," the man replied, running his gloved hand through her hair.

_So _this_ is what I saw last night_, Reign thought.  _It wasn't _me_ in Malfoy's bed, it was _Caelan.

She was relieved and disgusted all at once.

As if from a different world, a far off bell rang, signaling the start of classes.  Reign, getting annoyed with the intimate encounter playing out in front of her, stepped out of the shadows and stopped directly behind Caelan.  She cleared her throat.

            "Miss Decatur…" it was hard enough trying to suppress a laugh as the two split apart, it was even harder to refrain from slapping them both.  She raised an eyebrow at the girl, then to Lucius.  He looked down at his shoes, his lips pulsing red.  "I believe you are late for class."

            "Yes, ma'am."  With a quick glance at Lucius, who refused to look at her, Caelan scurried down the hall.  

            "And five points from Gryffindor, Miss Decatur!" Reign called after her, not really sure if she was allowed to deduct house points.

When she was out of sight, Reign crossed her arms in a Professor McGonagall-type fashion, looking down her nose at the man before her.

            "Tisk, tisk, Lucius.  What on earth have you done now?"  The man straightened his cloak and took a step closer to Reign, tapping his cane against the cold, hard stone.  The smile on his face reminded Reign of the way a rat would look if it could smile.

            "Reign, how good to see you."  The elf rolled her eyes; he said her name as if he was an old companion who hadn't seen her in years

            "Stop with the façade, Lucius."  He cocked his head at her and narrowed his eyes.  Reign's agitation flowed to her feet, causing her to take a step forward.  "What do you want with the girl?" He sighed.

            "I hardly think the matter requires your intervention, as it does not concern you."

            "Do _not_ lie to me, Lucius."  At the sound of his name, and her anger, the man stepped forward and slipped his arm around the elf.  Though the move was extremely unwelcome, she did not protest.

            "Can't put anything past you, can I?"

            "Stop avoiding the question."

            "What?  Can I help it if I'm lonely and she's vulnerable?"

            "She's _eighteen_ for Kor's sake!" Reign yelled, silencing Lucius.  "Besides, there's something about her, something you're not telling me.  The resemblance between us is too eerie to be merely coincidence," she paused, taking a deep breath and calming herself.  "What does she have that you want?"  At the sight of her relaxation, Lucius moved in once more, placing a hand on her cheek.

            "It's not that she has anything that I want.  It is only that I want _her_," he traced his finger along her jaw, "because she reminds me so much of _you_," he leaned forward, brushing his lips against her forehead, "who is the person I truly want."  Reign froze as he dipped down and locked lips with her.  It was a light caress, weakening the elf at her knees, her body succumbed to his seduction while her mind screamed at her to wake up and obliterate the man.

            "Enough," she gasped, pushing him away.  They stood apart from each other, catching their breath.  Reign glanced at his chiseled face, his crisp long hair falling into his eyes.  She laughed and shook her head.  "Curse you for being so handsome."  Lucius looked up, rather surprised.

            "Well, one can hardly help it, or avoid it."  His smile cast its usual spell on Reign once more, but this time she was quick to react.  Drawing her sword from her side, she brought it up to his cheek, where the scar that she gave him still showed itself on his skin.

            "I'd rather not dirty my blade so early in the morning by giving you one to match," she hissed at him.

            "That would be a _shame_."  The sarcasm dripped from his voice.  His once soft gray eyes were now as hard as ice.  She slowly lowered her sword, never taking her eye of him.

            "Whatever connection we share, Caelan and I, leave her out of it.  Whatever you want, you come after me to get it—" 

            "We have already tried."  Reign stopped, thinking to herself.

            "You just wanted me on your side…"

            "More or less."  The elf looked down to the floor, one side of her mouth curling up as she thought.

            "Very well," she finally said, "let _her_ decide her fate—not you, or Voldemort, or anyone else."  She raised her sword again.  "And so help me, if you hurt her in _any_ way, I will kill you."        Lucius smiled.

            "I have no doubts that you would."

            "She's just a child, Lucius."

            "I know."

            "I'll be keeping my eye on her."

            "Yes, yes…"  She replaced her sword.

            "And you."  As she turned to walk away, she heard the tap of his cane and remembered one more thing she wished to say to him.  "Oh, and might I just say that the fact that not _only_ did you commit adultery, but you did it with someone who could very well be your daughter.  And I find that truly disgusting, as I'm sure anyone else would also.  If power and respect is what you seek, please refrain from committing acts like the one you performed last night, for it will gain you nothing but the deepest loathing."

When she rounded the corner and was out of his sight, she couldn't decide whether to burst out laughing, or to empty the contents of her stomach.

Then—to her great relief—she remembered her own reminder; she needed to go to the library.

***

Don't hate me about the House elves, thing either.  Please…it's just part of her nature, her heritage.  You'll see, I promise *puppy-dog eyes*

***

Please review.


	7. Two Libraries

You'd think, seeing as I'm not in school anymore, that I would get these chapters out a lot quicker.  But then there's States for golf…and graduation.  All I have to say is…sorry.  Hope you like this.  It should be read with The Bard of Skheria's story; Walking on a String of Fate…we're trying to be slick by intertwining our stories ;)

Chapter Seven

Two Libraries—Another Summon

She ran her fingers gently over her left wrist; around the scars the skin was fresh and young, but when she reached the mound of jagged flesh that was her injury, her fingers stopped.  The ugly crescent seemed to laugh at her from its position on her arm.  The haunting cries from that dreaded night filled her elfin ears; she shut her eyes in a desperate attempt to silence the memories, but they seemed to only grow louder.  Her pulse pounded against her temples; she lowered her head as her body began to coil.  Reign's flesh was burning, she could feel the darkness cut through her skin and seep into her veins.  She grasped the sides of the table; her fingers turned stark white from the pressure.  Her face stung with the amount of force she was using to keep her eyes shut, to shove the terrifying memory back into its vault.  Every muscle in Reign's body contracted to the breaking point.  She felt as if she would implode.  

And then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

And a distant voice reached her ears.

She couldn't make it out; she only knew that it was a threat.  If she broke her concentration now, the memory would stay.  She took one hand from the table and grabbed the hand on her shoulder, twisting it as she turned toward its owner.  Her eyes were still closed.  A bright elfin arrow glowed against the black of her lids.  Another howl pierced her ears, but not one of her own.

            "Reign!" came the struggled cry.  It was a male voice.  The elf opened her eyes to see Severus Snape glaring back at her, his face contorting as she twisted his hand.  Seeing him had no effect on her.  She merely gazed back into his dark eyes as he wriggled beneath her grasp.

Needless to say, Severus was shocked.  But even more so, he was embarrassed.  What would happen if someone were to walk in on them and see a frail elf bringing the mighty Potions Master to his knees?  He would die before he let that happen.  Reaching into his robes with his free hand, Snape brought out his wand and pointed it at Reign.

            "Let…go…" he said sternly.

That plea reached Reign's ears, begging her to release whatever she was holding onto.  She blinked.  The memory was fading away; the arrow flew out of sight, her scars ceased their burning.  Her muscles relaxed, as did her grip on Snape.  She blinked again.

            "Severus!" she gasped, finally recognizing him.

            "Yes," he replied, rubbing his sore wrist, "the one and only."

Reign's eyes darted from his face to his wrist, then to her hand, which was red from the pressure of holding him.  She brought her elbow up to the back of her chair and rested her chin in her hand.  With a lazy smile, she spoke to Severus.

            "Sorry 'bout that."  Snape scowled at her as he pulled up a chair.

            "What the hell was _that_ all about?" he asked impatiently.  Reign looked away from him, down to the books sprawled out over the table.

            "I was trying to get rid of a bad memory…you distracted me."  Severus snorted.

            "Well in that case…I apologize," he said sarcastically.  Reign smiled, picked up his injured hand, and kissed the spot she had held on to so tight.  Immediately the pain subsided.  

            "Humph," Severus growled as he ripped his hand away and began to shuffle through the countless pages laid out before him.  Reign folded her arms and watched him silently, a small smirk playing across her lips. 

She had been in the library for three hours.  She had looked through at least fifty books trying to find something that would explain her powers.  She had wasted a sizeable amount of her immortal life.  And now Severus was attempting to do what she could not.  

            "What, pray-tell, are we looking for?"  In all his frustration, he had forgotten his task.

            "You'll think of it," came the answer.  Snape looked up at the elf, she had a playful smile on her face.  He rolled his eyes and returned to his work.  

            "All of these books, and you couldn't find one thing?"

            "I wouldn't be here if I had."

            "Thank you for that," he responded, leafing through _Azrael's Lexicon of Elvin Fortes_.

            "Already looked through that one," Reign said.  He looked at her, closed the book, and threw it aside.  Then he picked up _The Colossal Volume of Elves, Fifth Edition, and held it in front of Reign.  She nodded.  "That one too."_

_Tufta's Encyclopedia of Elfin Supremacy._

            "Yep."

_Gezibel's Anthology of Rare Magical Creatures and the Powers They Bestow._

            "Mm hmm."

            "Is there anything here that you haven't looked at?"  Reign searched the table.

            "_Dr. Whatsits Book of Fascinating Creatures that You'll Never See."  She flipped the book over in her hands and held it in front of Snape's face so he could read the script on the bottom._

            "_Because they don't exist…Good Lord, I can't believe people actually get _paid_ for writing this rubbish."_

            "I can't believe someone would actually put this in a _library, much less _read _it."  Reign threw the book on top of the ever-growing pile of hopeless attempts at finding out about herself.  "There's nothing in this entire castle that's going to help me.  I've been here all morning, Severus."  The Potions Master leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin.  Reign began to rub her wrist again.  From the opposite end of the library, a breeze seeped into the castle and brushed across the elf's skin.  It flowed up her arm, kissed her neck, and poured into her lungs through her nostrils.  _

The breeze was cool; summer was nearly here.  Reign had discarded her gloves, as they were heavy and cumbersome.  Now she resorted to small leather bands that she wrapped around the scars to hide them from prying eyes.  She picked up the one belonging to her left wrist and replaced it on her arm.  

            "It's hopeless," she sighed melodramatically.

A few tables down from where they were, Hermione Granger sat facing them, her head bent low as she read about Hogwarts for the umpteenth time.  A flash of green light caught her eye as she scanned the pages.  Looking up, she saw Reign and Professor Snape both staring absent-mindedly at the books laid out in front of them.  The glint she had seen came from the emerald that Reign was wearing around her upper arm.  Hermione stared at it curiously, as if it was a sign, a reminder of something from long ago.  

            "I don't know what to tell you, Reign.  Maybe this is the first time this power has even shown itself."  Severus blinked; several books were now on the floor, some face down, their pages sticking out at odd angles.  He looked at Reign; her face was in her hands.

            "It happened again…" he stated.

            "Yes," she said quietly.

Hermione was still watching from her table.  She rubbed her eyes, not really believing what she had just seen.  One minute the two adults were sitting quietly next to each other, and the next books were mysteriously thrown on the floor and the elf had her head in her hands.  

            "I'm so tired of it, Severus.  Who knew that having the power to stop Time would be so damned exasperating?"

At that, Hermione pulled herself out of her chair.  Hearing the familiar scrape of wood against the floor, Reign looked up and locked eyes with the girl.  Both gave a friendly smile as Hermione edged closer to their table.

            "Hermione, fancy seeing you here."  Reign winked when the girl halted in her tracks.  She smiled as the elf's sarcasm registered.

            "I don't want to seem as if I'm eavesdropping," she started.  Her Potions Master gave her a nasty glare and raised his eyebrow.  Hermione avoided his gaze and spoke to Reign.  "But I couldn't help but overhear you talking about…stopping Time?"  She waited patiently for a response.  Reign leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand.  

            "Yes?" she said, urging her to continue.

            "Well, you see…if I remember correctly…" she paused, "it was a long time ago—"

            "Do get on with it, Miss Granger," growled Severus.

            "There's a book…that an old friend of mine came across…I believe it was in _your_ library, Professor."  Snape's scowl vanished.  He looked away from the two inquiring faces, as if he was trying to remember something…

            "_You have a library?" Reign asked.  Severus coughed._

            "Yes, as a matter of fact…" He stopped when he felt a hand smack him in the shoulder.

            "Well, why didn't you _say_ so?"  Snape's mouth hung open at her.  Hermione shifted her position on the other side of the table, rather uncomfortable at seeing the elf confront her surly Potions Master.

            "Miss Granger, since you were so eager to interrupt our conversation, why don't you enlighten us with the title of this book so you can get back to more important matters?" he said, avoiding Reign's question.  Hermione's eyes widened; she opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it again.

            "Well…I can't really remember what the title was called…"  Severus gave an annoyed 'humph'.  Hermione paused, determined not to present herself as a fool in front of the man.  "_Bezazelis' Anthology of Anomalous Powers.  Yes, that was the title."_

Snape looked at her curiously.  

            "You remember it, don't you, Professor?"  Reign turned to look at Severus; his grimace had returned.

            "Of course I do," he said, standing up.  Hermione took an unconscious step backward as he stretched to his full height—a good foot and a half taller than her.  Reign followed his lead as he turned and headed out of the library.

            "Thank you," Reign mouthed to Hermione as they exited.  The girl nodded in response as they disappeared around a shelf of books. 

Severus walked with his head bent, kneading his temples with his graceful hands as Reign's voice flowed in one ear and out the other.

            "I can't _believe_ you didn't tell me you had your own library!  You'd think, with me stuck at that cursed table all morning, that you'd have the decency to mention...just perhaps...that the answer to all my troubles lied elsewhere!"  She stopped when the man beside her did.  Severus dropped his hands abruptly and snapped his head up, staring down the hall.  Reign could literally see him biting his tongue.  She shrugged her shoulders and laughed nervously.

            "I'm kidding...I'm just giving you a hard time...Severus!" she cried as she ran to catch up to his rapid pace.  The journey down into the bowels of the castle seemed longer than usual.  The only noise was that of the professor's and elf's boots.  Both refused to look at each other; Reign, because she was afraid of fueling an already out of control fire, and Severus because he wasn't up to hexing Reign for igniting his frustration.

When they reached his bedroom door, Severus pulled out his wand to release the wards to his private chambers.  Reign stayed behind as the door opened and he entered the room.  

            "Severus," she whispered.  He turned to look at her, one eyebrow slightly raised.  "I'm sorry."  After sighing deeply and shaking his head slightly, he brought his eyes back up to the elf's twinkling green orbs.

            "Stop saying that," he muttered as he turned around.  "And get in here already."  With an impatient wave of his hand, Reign scooted forward into his rooms as the door slammed behind her.  

It was an awkward moment; the last time they had been in this room together they had kissed.  Even though Severus wasn't exactly all there when it happened, it happened nonetheless.  Reign watched nervously as Severus stalked toward a door she had never really noticed before…perhaps because of his own wishes…and turned to look back at her.  She bit her lower lip and averted her gaze elsewhere.  When she looked back, Severus had disappeared through the door.  Reign hugged her robes tighter around her body as a cool draft escaped the pitch-black opening that beckoned her from the back of his rooms.  She proceeded tentatively toward the abyss; she had never entirely trusted the dark, no matter how well she could see in it.  Just as she raised her left foot to step into the opening, her eyes adjusted and she saw Severus reach into one of his many pockets and pull out his wand.

            "_Lumos_," he whispered as he held it next to a small lamp.  Instantly, magic flames shot out from the original lamp and lit up the room from other various lanterns around the dark space.  Reign jumped as white-hot flames flew past her and gasped at the sight of the spacious room.

            "Oh…Severus…" she whispered, gazing at the expansive library.  Nearly everywhere she looked there were books: shelves upon shelves of them.  All of them were old; some looked older than those in Hogwarts official library.  Reign walked slowly toward a smirking Severus, running her hand over the ancient spines of the dusty volumes.  Despite the fact the room looked as if it hadn't been dusted in a hundred years, it was still more organized than Madam Pince's abode.  Reign's upper lip curled into a smirk; of course it was immaculate—it belonged to Severus.

When she reached him, she took her dust-covered finger and wiped it across his cheek.  The gray trail it left made her smile; the sparkle in her eyes made half of Snape's mouth curl up into what she assumed was his attempt at a grin.  As she watched him struggle with a joyful emotion, Reign thought of something.

            "Who was it that you brought in here?" she asked.  Whatever Severus had been attempting was quickly abandoned.  He cleared his throat and looked down at his dust-laden boots.  

            "Just a student of mine…from a long time ago…"  His voice faded as if it hurt to speak of it.  Reign heard his pain and refrained from questioning him further on the matter.  

Instead she swept passed him to a glass case that caught her eye.  In the dim light of the library she could see the ancient chronicles of her people.  As she moved closer she read the titles in her native language, savored each syllable as it spilled over her tongue.  She pressed her hand against the mirror-like glass and bent forward so that her forehead touched the cool case.  Closing her eyes, she could almost here the cries of the archaic texts; it was a sound she was quite familiar with—one that she often heard in her bed at night when her heart longed to break free of Hogwarts…when she was trapped.

The elf jumped when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.  Severus gently pried her away from the case and opened it with a flick of his wand.  

Reaching for the nearest book, Reign suddenly felt as if she was back home in her village's own library, flipping through the anthologies of her people.  She lowered herself to the floor.  It had seemed like forever since she had seen, spoken, or heard anything in her native language.  How she missed the fluidness of it all.  She soon lost track of what she was really searching for.

            "I believe this is what Miss Granger was talking about," came a voice from above her.  Reign looked to the book that had been shoved into her view; it was definitely one of the oldest volumes present in the room.  She wondered if, at one time, the dark blood-red cover was a brilliant rose-like red.  Tattered pages stuck out a various angles from the sides, while the binding shifted under the pressure of Snape's hand.  Reign slowly took the book from him and set it in her lap, using the end of her robes to wipe off the age-old dust to read the title.  Unlike the rest of the books in the case, this one appeared to her in English.

Bezazelis' Anthology of Anomalous Powers 

She carefully opened the cover and flipped to the table of contents.  As she scanned the topics, Severus took a seat on the floor next to her (after laying out his robes beneath him).  Her finger, as if it had a mind of its own, stopped at the S section.  

            "Page 721…" she whispered as she turned the pages.  And then, as if it was magic—as if it could have been anything _but_ magic—the S section was laid out before her.  Before reading what the text was hiding, she picked up a curious metal-like string from the spine of the book; it looked to be some sort of bookmark.  She raised it to Snape's face; upon seeing it, that sad, far-off frown returned.

            "What is it?" she asked.

            "A cello string," he answered, plucking it from her fingers.  Reign watched him for a moment, then went back to the marked page.

S 

_Seven Sacred Emeralds _

_Forged by Rukai of the Wood (a tree-dwelling mage known for his carpentry and blacksmith skills) in the year four hundred and seventy-two, the Seven Sacred Emeralds are believed to be the most valuable stones on earth.  The true reason as to why the mage created the stones in the first place is unknown, though some experts believe that Rukai was famous for crafting objects because of his ambitious drive for power, while others protest that he merely produced them for show and envy. _

_It is said that Rukai held the stones in his possession for one hundred years before a group of elves, most likely of the Drow species, invaded his home and stole the precious gems.  After much deliberation and fierce arguments, the bandits chose to hide the stones in secret locations over the seven continents of the earth, hoping that anyone looking for them would not be able to track them down without a great amount of effort.  _

_The full extent of the stones' powers is still unknown, but the most unique of which is that of manipulating Time.  Inside the emerald Time does not exist.  Once the stone has been active with a host for one thousand years, its power starts to leak through the owner, creating an illusion of which the holder believes he/she is suspended in a space void of Time. This pause in the ribbon of Time allows the host to do nearly whatever they wish, making it either a tremendously helpful tool, or a terribly deadly one. _

_It is believed that the emeralds hold a life force all their own—which is difficult to control, but not impossible.  Most likely it is achievable several years after the host has experienced its power, and he/she will be able to manipulate Time easily with the mind.  Once the stone and the host become one, it is impossible to break their bond.  _

_Little is known about the location of the Seven Sacred Emeralds of Rukai, but there is rumor to believe that one of these powerful stones fell into the hands of the Lunai-sä tribe if elves (location unknown), who bestow upon their children an armband known as a saphie, worn around the upper arm as a symbol of love, peace, and prosperity.  The Lunai-sä tribe is acknowledged as one of the highest and most respected of all elvin species._

            "Oh…my…Severus, this is it!" she spat, jabbing the page with her index finger.  "This is what I've been looking for!"  She paused; Severus was still staring at the cello string.  She took her hand and placed it on top of his.  "Come off it now, Severus.  Who was this former student of yours and why are they dragging you into such sadness?"  The Potions Master shook his head.

            "She was just…special.  That's all."

            "_She,_ eh?"  Severus shot a glare in her direction.  "Sorry," she whispered, returning to the anthology.  

            "Here," came a silky voice next to her, "you should keep this."  He placed the string in her open palm and closed her fingers over it.

            "Why?"

            "I don't really know…I think you just should."

            "All right then."  Reign shrugged.  "I can't believe this; it's talking about _me_.  This is my tribe, my people…my emerald…"  Shrugging off her robes, Reign felt for her _saphie_ and took it from her arm.  Immediately she felt naked, incomplete.  She held it in her hand.  The light from the torches reflected off the smooth emerald, making it seem as if it was winking at her.  "All this time…the answer was right here…right on my arm…"  Reign laughed as she replaced the band and turned the page of _Bezazelis_'.  She continued reading while Severus looked over her shoulder.

Shangri-La 

_The Shangri-La has proven to be the deadliest and most powerful weapon in existence since the beginning of time.  It is believed that the Shangri-La was created during the first hundred years of the world's physical existence, made after one of the first nine gods, SaDaga, the God of Prescience, foresaw the apocalypse.  In an attempt to prevent the destruction of life during the apocalypse, the gods sent the first celestial priests to Mount Meru on an exploit to obtain a feather from the holiest of creatures, the Occamy.  The reason for this feather is still unknown, though it has been said that this article is the basis of the Shangri-La's greatest power.  Having successfully acquired the feather of the Occamy, the gods forged together the two greatest elements: immortal fire and eternal ice, creating the Shangri-La.  Although the physical form of the Shangri-La is unknown, many believe that it takes the appearance of a wand and can only be manipulated into other forms by the Bearer of the Shangri-La.  However, while it is in a dormant state, the Shangri-La is known to have an appearance much different than its original illuminant form.  _

_The Shangri-La was bestowed to the Nairmalyans in the first century of its existence, and every year for several hundred years, a sacrifice would be made to the Shangri-La in which a powerful Nairmalyan would allow her life to be taken into the weapon.  This absorption is known as one of the Shangri-La's greatest abilities, where anyone other than the Bearer who comes in contact with it will have their life and magical attributes absorbed into the weapon, allowing it to contain all of the abilities of the people it has taken.  _

In the year five hundred and sixty, a powerful Baliman king, Ravi of Andha Kull, stole the weapon and became the first Bearer of the Shangri-La.  However, even he was not able to contain all of its powers, and in the end, was overwhelmed to the point of death.  It is said that the true Bearer is the embodiment of life and will rise in the years of the apocalypse, where a test will be placed on them, and if they succeed such an ordeal, all the powers of the Shangri-La shall be bequeathed to them.

            "Sheesh," Reign breathed as she finished.  "Hope those powers are worth the trouble."  She closed the book, hoping that if the apocalypse came in her time that the Bearer of the Shangri-La would be on her side.  As she pulled herself up to replace the book, she heard a loud crash as something heavy slammed into the bookcase behind her.

She turned around just in time to see a crumpled Potions Master before every light in his library went out.  Squinting into the darkness, Reign could just make out the black outline of Severus as he sat slumped against the bookcase, clutching his left forearm in intense pain.  Just as she staggered over to him, he let out a muffled scream.

            "Severus!  What the—"  She fell to his side, ripping his arm from his own grasp.

            "He calls for me…" he whispered between raspy breaths.  Reign looked from him to his sleeve, pushed it up and gasped at the sight of the Dark Mark.  An unearthly glow surrounded it, the mark burning blacker than she had ever seen it.  Even in the darkness of the library, the sight of the mark did not go unnoticed.  Reign could feel Snape's hurried pulse beneath her grasp.  Her furrowed eyebrows communicated a sadness and anger that she refrained from speaking of.  They sat huddled on the cold stone floor; Reign stroked the mark gently and constantly, despite the burning sensation it spread through her body.  Severus groaned beneath her as he attempted to lift himself up.

            "Why do you continue doing this to yourself?" she whispered as she helped him up.  

            "I don't have a choice, Rei—"  Another wave of pain shot up his arm.  Severus fell into the elf, who was caught by surprise.  They both collided into another bookcase, sending several volumes crashing to the floor as Reign attempted to steady them both.  She took Snape's right arm and draped it over her shoulder, trying her best to keep him upright so that they could make it out of the dark cavern.  Three steps from the entrance, Severus let out another strained cry and fell backward onto the floor, clutching his arm.  As his face contorted with pain, Reign stood above him, watching nervously, waiting for the wave to pass.  As it did, the man lifted himself very slowly off the hard floor, his exhaustion evident from his breathing.

            "I'm getting…too old for this," he stated as he pulled himself up.  Reign laughed uneasily at his attempt at humor as she took his arm once more and half dragged him out of the library.  They staggered over to the bed, where the elf flung him onto the mattress.  The grown man that lay before her coiled into the fetal position and rocked back and forth, not caring if his behavior made the elf think any less of him, just trying to rid his body of the intense pain that shot through his very heart.  

            "Severus…" she cooed, sitting down next to him and stroking his hair.  Two dark and defeated eyes looked up at her, shimmering with what she assumed were tears.  "Oh Kor," she breathed as she bent over to kiss his cheek.  Before she had the chance, however, Severus sprang from the bed, emitting a scream so loud that Reign had to cover her elfin ears so they wouldn't burst at the sound.  Snape had let go of his arm, which now shot out from his side, the glow from it lighting up the dim room.  The veins in his arm, neck, and forehead looked as if they were about to burst.  His scream echoed in the room, reverberating off the walls and into Reign's very soul.  She took a step toward him, just as a fresh cry escaped his lips.  The elf watched in horror, knowing there was nothing she could do for his pain.  Her hand flew to her mouth; she shook her head in disbelief, remembering that at one point this is exactly what Severus wanted.  He put himself through this for reasons unknown when he first became a Death Eater.  

Reign watched the sorry sight as tears flowed freely from her eyes.  How anyone could survive this constant torture was beyond her comprehension.  Wanting desperately for it to end, she flung herself at Severus, knocking him back on the bed.

            "Enough!  Oh Kor…enough," she sobbed into his chest.

            "I have to go," he said with a distant voice, staring up at the ceiling.  "If I don't go now, he'll find me later…he'll kill me…"  Reign pushed herself away, shaking her head as she gazed at the Potions Master.

            "What can I do to help?"

            "My cloak…in the wardrobe," he said slowly, pointing to the other side of the room.  Reign reluctantly left his side and walked over to the chest.  As she pulled open the door, she heard another groan from the bed and watched as Severus rolled over onto his side, curling up into himself.  She turned swiftly back to her mission, shutting her eyes before she grabbed the cloak.

            "And the mask…" came a husky voice as she laid the dark clothing beside him.  "In the lower…right drawer."  Reign retrieved the covering from his desk, scowling at the simple but hauntingly grotesque item.  When she returned to the bed, Severus was slowly wrapping his cloak around his frail body.  The waves of excruciating pain were now gone, but Severus knew they would be back if he did not leave.  Reign stuck out her hand that held the mask, refusing to look Severus in the eye.  He took it from her and held it in his lap.

"I'm still bound to him, Reign."

"I know," she whispered.  With his right hand, he pulled her to him and lifted her chin to look into her eyes.  What he saw struck his heart with an unfathomable pain.

Reign closed her eyes as he ran his left index finger down her cheek.  She took the hand in hers and kissed the Dark Mark.  The fire it emitted burned her lips, sending her head backwards as a thousand knives slashed every inch of her skin.  A heavy weight fell upon her chest, making breathing difficult for her.  Severus steadied her as she regained her composure.

            "Just, come back to me…in one piece," she said as he held her face in his hands.  In one swift moment, Reign swooped down and captured his lips with her own.  She could feel his eyelashes brushing her skin as his eyes sprang open in surprise.  The usual feeling he got whenever she kissed him intensified as her very soul crept into his body.  The emotion with which she kissed him left her lips and renewed his strength.  Warmth invaded his bloodstream, flowing freely to every bit of his torn body.  The sting from his Dark Mark became just a dull throbbing as she pulled away and looked into his eyes.

            "What did you just do?" he asked sternly.  Reign shrugged as she helped him up from the mattress and took his spot on the bed.  He looked at her with sad eyes before lifting the mask up to his head.

"Please…don't put that on in front of me," she said, looking away.  Severus sighed and sauntered over to the edge of his rug.  Pulling it back, he used his wand to unlock a hidden door.  Reign watched him disappear through the hole, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her heart sinking with every slow breath she took.

***

Please review.


	8. The Fly

After much deliberation I have decided to continue writing this story.  After reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I was at the point where I didn't much feel like writing anything anymore, least of all anything about Harry and Co.

Seeing as the 5th book has finally come out, I thought that my story would be left to rot, as my readers' time would be filled with words straight from JK Rowling herself.

But then I thought, 'I finished the book in 2 days, and already I want something else to read.'  Well, what better to read than fanfiction.  I thought that while we all waited for the 6th book to hit the stores, I would continue my story.  So here it is, the next chapter.  I hope I didn't write all this for nothing.  I hope you all like it.

chapter eight

the fly—healing—Dobby vs. Reign—the tragic demise of a great man

_You shouldn't have done that, you know._

Reign sat on the edge of a large four-poster bed draped in ebony.  Her arms were wrapped around her knees in an effort to keep her body warm.

_You see?  Now look at you..._

Her teeth started chattering as small bumps rose out of her dark skin.  The tip of her nose and ears felt like ice, as did her fingers and toes.  She threw her face into her knees, attempting to banish the ice-cold feeling creeping over her entire body.  

The voice in her head sighed.

_Haven't learned a thing yet, have you?_

            "Oh come OFF it!" the elf shouted suddenly, springing from the bed.  She grabbed her hair and fell to her knees.  "Just go away," she whispered as she rocked on her haunches, "just go away..."  

A single tear escaped her green eyes as she turned to sit on the rug through which Severus left.  Spreading her legs out in front of her, she leaned back against the bed and wiped the drop from her cheek.  It was quite a long while before she remembered to breathe, or blink...all she did for a great amount of time was stare at the spot where the Potions Master disappeared.  

When she did move, it was to rub her wrists.  She hadn't mentioned it to him, but as soon as his Dark Mark began to burn, so too did her scars.  As she sat massaging the pain from them, she wondered why anyone would want to go through what Severus went through to join the ranks of the Dark Lord.

Power, perhaps?  Maybe for some...but Severus didn't seem like the power-hungry type.  Respect?  Certainly that was part of his motive.  But there was something else...

Reign supposed it was a sense of belonging that brought him to the Death Eaters.  She didn't know anything about his past, but his present here at Hogwarts convinced her that he was probably very lonely.  And Voldemort must have said the right words to him...that's all it took...a promise...to belong.

But at what price?

Pain and humiliation, to put it lightly.  Reign just couldn't grasp it...why?  She would never understand why anyone would want to kill another for _power_—or worse...for _sport._  And she wouldn't ever understand why others would watch and want to be like them.

Reign bit her lower lip as she thought.  Unconsciously, her right hand went to her left arm, where her _saphie_ hung.  She wrapped her fingers around the emerald, relishing the tranquility that surged through the tips and into the rest of her body.  Now that she knew what was causing the annoying disturbances in her life, she needed to figure out a way to control it.  Perhaps if she just sat back and closed her eyes...

She cleared her mind...relaxed her muscles, her senses.  She concentrated on her breathing, and the jewel that hung below her shoulder.  All the noises, the smells disappeared, leaving her in a void beneath her closed lids.  Once everything was gone, she dared to open one eye...to glance at the clock...to see...

            "Damnit."

She closed her eye and leaned back against the bed again, this time wrapping her fingers around the emerald.  Before she could relax, however, a buzzing noise drifted to her ears.  She opened her eyes to see a fly frolicking in the air a few feet in front of her, making a sinuous path through the atmosphere of the Professor's rooms.  She watched it dart into the bathroom at the opposite end of the space, then closed her eyes again.

It didn't stay in the bathroom for long.

Reign's hands flew in every direction, hoping to swat the insect so she could rid her mind of its buzzing.  With her eyes still closed, she listened to its call, attempting to track it.  Her head snapped to one side, and then the other as it darted across her face.  Then it was gone; over the bed and into Snape's office, she suspected.  She attempted control once more.

Her lips thinned out and her jaw clenched as the sound came back.  She could feel her blood boiling, her muscles tensing.  Slowly she opened her eyes and followed the insect's trail through the air.  Reign ignored the warmth coming from her arm that flooded her insides.  She couldn't see her eyes glow with a fire unknown to her as her irises swirled in their sockets.  All she concentrated on was the fly, and how badly she wished it would just...

Stop.

The elf's jaw dropped to the floor as she lowered a raised finger that was pointed at the frozen pest.  Lifting herself to her knees, she shuffled across the rug to where the fly hanged, suspended in the air.  

A triumphant smile graced her youthful face.  She turned to look at the clock; it was still ticking.  Her smile faded but did not disappear.  She had discovered the art of suspending an object in a timeless web.

It took her through lunch and afternoon classes to master the art.  Practicing in Severus' rooms, she soon had various objects floating around the area.  She would throw a pillow or a candle into the air and hold it there while she threw the next object.  She also pushed the chairs over by the fireplace and stopped them before they crashed to the floor.  With her hands on her hips, her sleeves rolled up, a shimmering forehead, and a smile on her face, she surveyed the state of Severus Snape's rooms.  

If he would have entered at that moment, he would have been very upset.  

Somewhere above her a bell tolled, signaling the end of afternoon courses and the start of dinner.  After she replaced every floating object and two falling chairs, she straightened her attire smoothed back her hair.  She was still wearing a smile as she went to the door, kicking back a corner of the rug that had been folded back in her escapades.  She halted as she put her foot down.

While she was enjoying mastering her newly acquired power, Severus was most likely going through one of the worst times of his life.

It is funny how things work like that.  Where—during the same span of one afternoon—one can be living: another, dying.

Reign lowered her head and said a silent prayer for the owner of the room that she stood in.  She hoped that the gift she gave him would ease his pain; she hoped for his safe return.

***

It wasn't because her dinner was made by House Elves that Reign didn't want to eat.  Nor was it the fact that she wasn't hungry—she most definitely was.  Having skipped breakfast in order to go to the library, and then omitting lunch for practicing had certainly taken its toll on her appetite.

            "Merlin's sake, Reign, was that your stomach?" Helena asked from next to her.  The elf looked down at her lap, from where the disturbing noise originated.

            "Yes," she said quietly.

            "Well then eat something already!" the professor laughed, shoving a fork-full of potatoes into her mouth.  Reign stared at the platter laid out before her; it certainly looked appealing...yet she had no desire, whatsoever, to place the masterpiece in her mouth.

            "I can't."

            "Pardon?" Helena spat after swallowing a mouthful of pumpkin juice.

            "I'm just...too worried, I suppose."  Reign heard a sigh from her right as a hand came up to her chin.  Turning to look Helena in the eye, she could feel the warmth flowing once more.  Helena's mouth hung half open as Reign turned her head to look over the sea of faces.

Time had stopped.  

All of it.

Every person, save two, was frozen.  Reign was one...

Caelan dropped her fork in her lap at the Gryffindor table.  It happened again.  She looked nervously from one face to the other, then dared to steal a glance up at the staff table.  Before Reign noticed her, Time resumed.

            "Your eyes..."

            "What?"

            'Your eyes...they changed..."  Reign folded her hands in her lap.

            "What are you talking about, Helena?"

            "Only for an instant...Reign," she placed a hand on the elf's shoulder, "they _glowed."  Reign raised her eyebrow.  "And...and they _swirled_."  The elf's hand flew to her mouth to muffle a laugh.  Helena hit her playfully on the shoulder.  "I'm serious, Reign!" she hissed, leaning closer to her.  "If only for a split second...I know what I saw...it was amazing..."_

            "Well," Reign started, attempting to think of an excuse, "some elves are known to express their emotions through their eyes."  She looked at Helena to see if the bluff worked.  "I told you I was worried."

            "Yes....well, that was bloody strange."

            "I'll try not to let it happen again."  As they laughed, Madam Pomfrey came galloping into the Great Hall, pushing her way through students as they exited, swimming through the masses until she finally reached the staff table.  She quickly ran around to where Dumbledore sat conversing with Professor McGonagall and proceeded to interrupt their conversation.  After whispering into the Headmaster's ear, they both turned and looked straight at Reign.  

She had been watching the mediwitch's spectacle with slight interest, but now their stares had piqued her curiosity.  Very slowly and deliberately the Headmaster rose and led Madam Pomfrey to where the elf sat.  Reign's knee began to bounce nervously as they approached.

            "Severus has returned, my dear," Albus whispered to her.  Reign nearly exploded out of her seat.  Dumbledore and Poppy steadied her as she rose.

            "Where is he?"

            "In his own chambers," Madam Pomfrey said shortly.  "Refuses to come to the hospital wing so I can heal him properly—"

            "He's hurt!?  How bad is it?"  The nurse jumped back as Reign sprang toward her.

            "Relax, child.  He'll be fine," Albus soothed.  "But I must stress that he is in a terrible amount of pain—physical, mental, and most likely emotional as well."  Reign clasped her hand over her mouth.

            "He's asked for you specifically, Reign," Poppy said from behind Dumbledore.  "Stingy git won't let me near him.  Thinks you can handle it better than I can—"

            "Poppy," Dumbledore whispered sternly, turning to her.  She looked instantly away.  When the Headmaster turned back to the elf, she was already out the tall doors at the end of the Great Hall.

            "How..." Poppy inquired, leaning on the table as she watched the elf disappear down the foyer stairs.

            "Love, my dear," Albus said softly.  The woman looked at him curiously.  He just smiled, the twinkle in his eyes shining brighter than it had in many months.  "All things are possible through love."

***    

Harry had never seen anyone run so fast in his life; Reign was bounding through the halls, leaping left and right, clearing his peers' heads as they made their way to their respected common rooms.  The look on her face—or that which he caught a glimpse of as she sped past him and his friends—was a look of mad determination.  

As Harry watched her fly over Neville Longbottom's head and drop gracefully onto the dungeon steps, he prayed no one would try to interrupt her quest—whatever it may be.

The noise that was produced as his bedroom door crashed open made Severus Snape cringe; he would have leapt out of his skin, but he was in far too much pain for that.  He winced when his mattress sank as Reign climbed up to him.  

            "Oh _Kor..." Reign whispered between heavy breaths.  The Great Potions Master lay sprawled out atop his comforter, his clothes still stuck to him, his hair mangled...and his face..._

The pain of which Reign had been contemplating while he was gone was etched into his pale skin; blood still dripped from the corners of his mouth and nose.  His dark eyes were barely open and hardly held life in them.  The elf helped him open his eyes with one hand and wiped his blood away with the other.  Severus opened his mouth to speak, but Reign stopped him with a finger to his lips.

            "Don't talk.  Just point to where it hurts."  The man laid his hands on his chest.  After much wasted time and effort, Reign managed to remove his frock coat and collared shirt.  Beneath was a map of dark islands and deep canyons.  Severus groaned as she ran her hands over the wounds.

            "Shh..." she whispered as she bent down to kiss the bruises.  After she rubbed the spot gently, it disappeared.  She did this several times on his chest, and after each Snape's breathing became a little easier.  When she was done she looked up to his face, which had regained some of its color.  Severus looked at her with soft eyes, and pointed to his clavicle, where a large black bruise resided.  Reign kissed the spot, grasping onto the man's arms as the pain flowed from his body to hers.  When she was sure there was nothing left, she snapped her head up and rubbed the spot gently.  

When she looked down at Severus, she smiled.  The old smirk was back.  He took one finger to her cheek and traced the outline of her face.  It was then that Reign saw the scar above his left eyebrow.  She touched it briefly, and Severus nodded.  Leaning down to kiss it gently, she could feel the man's breath on her neck and his eyelashes against her skin as his eyes closed.  A great and heavy sigh escaped his lips when she was done.

Reign leaned back once more and studied him carefully.  He looked like himself again, save for a tiny scar on his lower lip.  Reign thought it would heal just fine without her help: Severus thought otherwise.  

He pointed to the injury. 

Reign smirked.

            "Now is that _really_ life-threatening?"  Severus nodded.  Reign laughed softly as she bent down and took his lower lip into her mouth.  

All other pain the Potions Master was experiencing was forgotten at that moment.  Time paused as he and Reign kissed.  It was an innocent enough embrace; his mouth really _did_ hurt, after all.  His sore hands slipped through her soft hair as their tongues danced.  It was an ancient kiss, so gentle and yet so powerful that it could have passed for the very first kiss.  Needless to say, Severus was disappointed when it ended.

Reign pulled back and steadied herself on Snape's legs.  She could see a glitter in his eyes that she hadn't seen for eighteen years.

            "What?" he asked, inquiring about her glazed-over stare.  Reign blinked and took his hand in hers, kissing it gently.

            "I'm glad you're all right."

            "Well," he started, attempting to lift himself from his pillow, "I'm not dead."  Reign laughed.

            "I see your sense of humor isn't, either."  She lifted herself from his body and helped him to a sitting position.

            "My clothes, please," he said as he wrapped his arms around his lean frame in the cool air of his chambers.  Reign retrieved the articles from the floor.  As Severus dressed himself, he never took his eye off the elf.  He looked as if he was itching to ask her something.

            "What is it?" she laughed, crossing her arms.

            "Reign," he began, taking her hands and pulling her to him, "I know that I am alive because of you."  Reign huffed in protest.  "The Dark Lord's torture should have killed me tonight.  He was in an especially vengeful mood."  He paused, looking down to the floor, remembering.

***

            "Remind me, Severus...exactly _whose_ side you are on?"  The high-pitched shrill that was Voldemort's voice rang out from beneath his hood and stung Snape's ears as he fell to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth.

            "I only serve you, my lord."

            "Is that so?  Hmm..." Voldemort circled the crippled man beneath him until he stood directly behind him.  After he pulled Snape's hood down and ripped his mask off, he leaned in very close, grazing his ear with his cool, thin lips.  "Why do I have such a hard time believing you then?"  He threw Snape's head into the dirt and stood on his back.  "Fellow Death Eaters," he announced, addressing the circle of robed figures gathered about the graveyard, "what shall we make of this here, Severus Snape, who claims he is one of us?"  

A few of the figures shouted unmentionables at the fallen man, while some spit in the dirt next to his face.

            "You have heard what he has been accused of, now let your judgment decide his fate."  With one swift kick, Severus was lying on his stomach, looking up into the red eyes of Lord Voldemort.  "Get up, Severus," he demanded.  Very slowly, the Potions Master obeyed.  As he lifted himself from the ground, he could barely make out the hisses of the Death Eaters, the silent curses crossing their lips.  He could feel their truculent eyes upon him, their zeal for violence as he stood before their lord, who reached inside his robes and pulled out a long, black piece of wood.  He raised it to Snape's forehead, but paused before cursing the man before him.  Stepping forward, he whispered into Snape's ear.

            "I'm giving you one last chance, Severus.  Do you, or do you not, have any helpful information regarding the elf?"  The Potions Master looked straight ahead, unblinking.

            "No."

            "Very well," Voldemort sighed, stepping back and raising his wand once more.  

Severus had decided, a long time ago, that he would not help the Dark Lord destroy the elf—or worse, gain control over her powers.  But as he stood there, swaying in the darkness, pondering Death, he refused to accept his situation.  It wasn't his time; he would not let it be.

            "Not yet," he whispered, lowering his head.

            "Pardon?" The man with the red eyes asked, in a slightly mocking tone.

            "I have no helpful information...not yet, anyway."

            "What do you mean, 'not yet'?"  Voldemort took one long, cold finger and lifted the man's chin.  Snape's mind raced as he thought of something to get himself out of harm's way.

            "This summer the elf has asked me to accompany her as she returns to her home."

            "Her home was destroyed, Severus."

            "I have reason to believe that there may be something left that she is going back for.  Something that could be very useful to us—you, my lord."

            "And what is this 'something'?"  

            Damnit.

            "I am not exactly sure yet, my lord."

            "Very well," came the reply as Voldemort raised his wand once more.  Severus refused to shut his eyes, to bow his head; he would not die like a coward.  But instead of the Killing Curse escaping Voldemort's thin lips, it was something else.

            "_Crucio!" _

Severus fell to the ground as thousands of the sharpest knifes slashed through his skin.  As he lay crumpled on the earth, the Dark Lord stepped over him.

            "You have been spared, Severus," he said sternly, "for the last time."

***

Reign watched as Severus reflected.  He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on his lap.  The brief glimpse of happiness that had shown in his eyes previously was now nowhere to be seen.  She gazed silently at his chest—the steady rise and fall of it—as he stared at the rug that lay on the floor beneath his feet.  Slowly, the elf swung her feet out from under her and joined him at the sitting position.  They sat in silence for longer than was comfortable, until Severus spoke—causing Reign to jump, even if his voice only came as a whisper.

            "Why am I still alive, Reign?"  A heavy, defeated sigh came from next to him.  "That was no ordinary kiss, was it?"  With large, sympathetic eyes, Reign looked up into his.

            "It is an ancient form of healing...and a very advanced one."  Rising from the bed, Reign began to pace the room, keeping quiet until Severus cleared his throat.  She stopped, looked at him, and sighed again.  "I gave you a taste of immortality," she said simply.  She was given a quizzical look by the Potions Master, who tilted his head and raised that cursed eyebrow, telling her that more specific information was required.  "I gave you part of my life, Severus," she said quietly, her head lowered to the floor.

            "You did WHAT?" he bellowed, rising from his seat.  Reign put both hands on his chest and pushed him back down with a surreal force.

            "Calm down.  It's not as big of a deal as you are about to make it out to be.  Elves are immortal, remember?"  Severus narrowed his eyes at her.  "It's not like I do it all the time, handing my life out to whoever desires it.  I'd get too bloody cold..." she drifted off, "and then I would turn mortal and die."

            "You shouldn't have done that."

            "Well, better I do that than attend your funeral," she replied harshly.  "It's already been done, Severus.  Get over it."  She took her seat next to him, and her upper lip twitched uncomfortably as they lapsed into a moment of silence.  

It was quickly broken, however, by a familiar buzzing sound overhead.  

Slowly looking up, Reign watched as the fly returned to torture them both.  Severus followed her gaze, and as they watched together—both their necks aching slightly from the arch—Reign said quietly,

            "Would you like to see what I have been working on all day?"  Severus gave her a curious look, to which she smiled, never taking her eye off of the insect.  It flew over to the shelves of books, passed a burning candle, and landed softly on the professor's desk, directly in front of the two adults.  Then—after flexing its wings and rubbing its feelers together—it took off and headed straight for the elf.  She, in turn, narrowed her eyes as they began to glow and swirl.

            "Hmm...impressive," Severus observed from her side as the fly froze a few feet away from them.

            "I try," Reign said as she stood up and plucked the insect from the air and placed it in her pocket.  

            "And just _what_ are you planning to do with it?"

            "Put him back where he came from—out a window, into the night..."  Reign looked down as her stomach lurched.  "On our way down to the kitchens."  As if it was fate, Snape's abdomen protested at that very same moment.

            "Excellent idea," he said as he stood.  Reign wrapped her arm around his middle—as he was still very weak—and they walked together out of his rooms and toward a very large painting of fruit.

Tickling the pear until it giggled, Reign held Severus tight with one arm.  As the painting swung open, she hauled him into the spacious kitchens and threw him down on the nearest stool.  While she caught her breath, she heard scurrying all around her and caught glimpses of very small creatures darting about them.  Soon there was a slight tug on her robe, and Reign turned, looking down at her assailant.

            "Dobby welcomes Miss to—"  

The poor house elf didn't have time to finish.  Reign had leapt from her chair and it crashed to the ground as she picked the creature up by the neck and threw him onto the table in front of her.  She grabbed her dagger and lifted it to his chin.  Her eyes raged with a silent fire and her nostrils flared at the sight before her.

            "Please, Miss, Dobby meant no harm—"  He stopped as he caught sight of her ears.  

And then Dobby the House Elf screamed.

Reign held on tight as he squirmed and whimpered beneath her.

            "Please, Miss, Dobby does not wish to cause troub—" he cried.

            "You couldn't even if you tried, you querulous plebian," she said through clenched teeth.  She did not relax her grip as a hand rested on her arm.

            "Did you think, with all of our meals being prepared by these creatures, that they wouldn't be here when we snuck in for a late-night snack?" Severus asked cautiously from beside her.  "Let him go, Reign.  He's definitely not worth the trouble."  As soon as Reign relaxed, Dobby scurried off the table and fell onto the floor.  Reign snorted as she sat down, mumbling, "I hate house elves" as several others of the species appeared slowly from their hiding places around the vicinity.  

It was obvious to Severus, after seeing Dobby's reaction to an elf, that House Elves and their superior cousins did not have the best relations.  But as to why Reign herself despised them so much, he had yet to find out.

As leftovers from that night's dinner were being laid out, the painting behind Reign and Severus slowly creaked open.

            "Harry Potter!  Harry Potter has come to see Dobby!" the House Elf shouted as he dropped a platter in front of the first two visitors and ran to the newcomer.

            "Hello Dob—" Harry stopped at the sight of his least favorite professor and one of the more pleasant adults occupying Hogwarts.

            "Harry, I'm starving!  Go in already!" came the booming voice of Ron Weasley from behind him.  When Harry didn't move, his redheaded best friend shot out from behind the door and over the ebony mess that was Harry's hair.  "Oh," he said quietly, avoiding Professor Snape's famous glare.

            "What's going on in there?  Harry?  Ron?  Come _on_!"  With a swift push, Harry and Ron stumbled into full view and Hermione came waltzing in after them.  "Oh," she said, stopping abruptly, "Professor Snape...Reign.  What a surprise to see you here."

            "I should say the same about you three," Reign said as Ron and Harry gathered themselves after running into a nearby cutting counter.

            "Sorry...it's just...we've been studying all evening for exams—"

            "We?" asked Snape skeptically, eyeing Harry and Ron suspiciously.  Hermione ignored him.

            "...and we missed dinner...and the common room is dead bare...and we're awfully hungry—"

Severus held up a hand to silence her, and it was as if an invisible zipper had pulled itself over his student's lips.

            "Well, you're all here.  Have a seat," Reign said, motioning for them to sit around their table.  She ignored the truculent glare from Severus, who—after a wasted effort to get her attention—stabbed his fork into the salad in front of him and proceeded to eat.

If it wasn't already an extremely uncomfortable situation for all of them, it got even worse when Dobby brought more platters filled with potatoes and stew.  Very much by accident, a drop of stew managed to spill onto Reign.  She jumped back from the mess, fumes coming out of her ears.  It was a tense moment as Reign stood facing Dobby; she, shaking with anger: he, with the utmost fear.  

            "D-dobby is so s-sorry, Miss.  D-dobby did not—"

            "I don't want to hear it, House Elf," she snapped.  "I just want a napkin."  Dobby nodded, set down the trays he carried, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him away from the scene.  Reign sat down just as he came shuffling back, napkin in hand.  

            "Here is the napkin Miss r-requested..." he said as he lifted a shaking hand to the elf.  He looked away and shut his eyes, very afraid of any sort of punishment he might receive.  Reign ripped the cloth from his tiny hands, shaking her head at the whimper that escaped his lips as he backed away from her.

            "D-dobby is s-sorry, Miss—"

            "I know, damnit!" she shrieked as she rubbed the stain from her clothing.  All of the occupants around her jumped in their seats.  Dobby shot out of her arms' length and retreated through the double doors opposite their table, not even glancing at the famous trio.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were stunned—to say the very least—from what they just witnessed.  Severus, on the other hand, continued to ignore his company, still enraged that he was dragged down to the kitchens to spend his night with Potter and company.

Harry and Ron recovered quickly from the shock of Reign and Dobby's encounter, digging into the delicious food laid out before them.  Hermione, however, did not.

            "Um...Reign?"

            "Yes?" The elf acknowledged in a lighter tone, still scrubbing her attire.

            "Is there something between you and Dobby that we should know about?"  Reign halted in her cleaning to look up and scrutinize Hermoine.  

            "Besides as much distance as possible?"  She bent down again, returning to her robe.  "The nasty little pest..."

            "What I mean to say is...is there something you have against Dobby?"

            "Well, I had my dagger against him earlier, but your heroic Potions Master here stopped me in the middle of my mission."  Hermione's eyes grew wide; needless to say, she was appalled.  Both Harry and Ron looked up also, shocked at hearing Snape stopping such a bitter encounter.  "I have something against all house elves, Miss Granger, not just Dobby," Reign said, answering her volatile glare.

            "And why is that?" Hermoine snapped, turning to fully face the elf.  Harry, Ron, and Severus had all stopped eating and were listening intently to the altercation about to unfold.

            "This is not the time, nor the place, to discuss that, Hermione."

            "Oh, I think this is the perfect place to do so.  I'm sure these poor house elves would love to know why you seem to hate every single one of them—apparently for no good reason at all!"  Everyone jumped but Hermione as Reign slammed her fist down onto the table.  She spun around unnaturally fast to face the younger woman.

            "Do _not meddle in that which you do not understand," she hissed menacingly through clenched teeth._

            "Then please, enlighten us," Hermione said lightly, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest.  Reign looked from one eager face to the next—even Severus looked interested in what she had to say about House Elves.  

            "Fine," she said, throwing the napkin onto the counter, "you asked for it."  Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks, while Severus and Hermione kept their eyes on the elf.

            "Many...many years ago," she began, "the elves of my village employed the very same creatures working in these kitchens.  Every household, no matter if they were rich or poor, also had a House Elf.  Unlike wizards, however," she said in a slightly louder and more impatient voice after hearing Hermione snort in disgust, "elves clothed their servants, let them do as they pleased—wander the village, visit with others of their kind, etc.  They had much more freedom under an elf's ownership than they do now with a wizards."  Reign shook her head.  "What a mistake that was...

            "No matter how 'easy' house elves had it in our village, however, they still knew we were the superior race.  They respected us—" She stopped when she heard Hermione cough into her hand, emitting a noise that sounded vaguely like "feared".

            "And your House Elf?" Harry asked, to avert Reign's glare from his friend.

            "Benie was his name; wily little plebian he was.  Great cook, but never stayed around much.  Only when my father was home, it seemed...

            "My father was a member of the Order of the Spirit, the government and regime of our people—"

            "Hey, that's kind of like the Order of—" Ron stopped as Harry jabbed him in the side.  Reign ignored the interruption.

            "He was the Keeper of the Order, and held all of the ancient secrets of our tribe.  Benie knew this, just as the rest of the village knew..."  Suddenly Reign's eyes glazed over as she remembered.

            "It was raining the night they came.  I was asleep in my room.  I heard a knock on the door, heard my father's voice talking quietly with those outside in the storm.  There were two of them.  One had a high-pitched, awful voice that sent shivers down my spine as I listened to it in my bed.  The other voice was more human, deeper...and oddly familiar, now that I think of it.

            "I could hear the visitors asking to come inside...my father telling them it was late.  Gradually the conversation grew louder, as they demanded entrance into our home and as my father denied it to them.  I crawled out from my covers and went to the door, edging it open ever so slightly to get a good look at what was happening.  My mother and brother were already in bed as the two strangers pushed my father inside and entered our home.  The tall, hooded, high-pitched-voice figure stood close to my father as his companion tore apart my father's desk, searching for something.

            "'There's nothing here, my lord. _ It's _not here.' the man said after trashing my father's study.  I heard my father ask what they were looking for.  And I barely heard them answer as a clap of thunder shook the room.  

            "'The prophecy, old man...where is it?' demanded the shorter man.  My father replied, saying he had no idea what they were talking about.  I saw the taller man pull a wand from under his robes...before I knew it, a flash of green clashed with a flash of white...lightning lit up the room...and my father's dead body.

            "I screamed from where I crouched behind my door.  Not caring if they killed me too, I ran to my father and fell upon him, crying miserably.  I heard—over the pounding in my head—the taller figure say to his other half that he knew my father did not have the prophecy, that 'the worthless house elf' had let them down, lied to them.  

            "And then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a small creature edge out from the shadows, shaking uncontrollably, mumbling his apologies to his 'master'.

            "'I am extremely disappointed in you, Benie,' he said.  

            "'I know, master.  Benie will not disappoint you again, master,' that wretched creature said, falling to the man's feet.  I laid my head down upon my father's silent chest and saw, in the darkness of my closed lids, another flash of green.  When I looked up I saw the limp body of Benie.  Unlike my father's death, I had no pity for him.  At that moment I was glad the stranger did what he did to that horrible, spineless, no good..."  Reign's hands balled up into fists as her whole body tensed.  Severus put a hand on her arm.

            "'Do not fear, child,' came a raspy voice from above me, 'for death is a release, not a punishment.'"  At that, Reign lowered her head and let the tears flow.  "I was not a child then.  This was twenty-five years ago.  I didn't know it then...but that man, with the horrible voice...was Voldemort."  There was a dramatic pause, where all four of her companions gasped.  Hermione clasped her hand over her mouth in shock; Ron cringed at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, and both Severus and Harry stared at her with their mouths open.  "Even though Voldemort did the deed, it was that damned house elf who led him to our home, who betrayed his family...who killed my father."  She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked around at the faces watching her, even the house elves brave enough to venture from their hiding places.  "That is why I despise house elves, Hermione."  The girl looked away as Reign rose and went to the sink to splash her face with water.

            "None of this leaves this room, do I make myself clear?" hissed Severus.  All three teenagers nodded slowly, in complete understanding.

***

Is the plural of iris really irises?  I couldn't figure it out.  Anyway, hope this was worth your time.  Did you catch the significance of Reign's House Elf's name?  'Benie'?  Take a guess, I'll let you know next chapter.  Thanks for all the reviews; I could just cry from happiness.

***

Please review. 


	9. Pain Subdued

Sorry it took so long to update... (bangs head against monitor Dobby style...)

Anyway, here's chapter nine!  Hope you like it.  Reign's house elf, Benie, is supposed to be a reference to Benedict Arnold.  Get it?  Hey, I thought it was clever...

Nine

Pain subdued—Lunch—A demand

            "Nice going, Hermoine.  Way to start a conversation...and a war."  The young woman stopped in her tracks and opened her mouth as if to retaliate; nothing came out, however.  Ron's sarcasm had been well deserved.  

            "I didn't know it was so personal for her," she whispered.

            "As if it wasn't obvious!"

            "She did warn you, Hermione," Harry said softly from her side.  She opened a speechless mouth once more.  Ron threw up his hands in disgust and stomped off ahead of them, mumbling.

            "Now I'll _never have a chance with her...she probably hates us all..."  Harry smiled from Hermione's side.  Putting a hand on her shoulder, he attempted to reassure her._

            "Don't mind Ron.  You know how he gets."

            "He's right, though.  I feel terrible...bringing up her past like that...I just couldn't understand why someone would hate House-elves _that_ much."  Harry bit his lip, as if trying to come up with some really good piece of advice for his friend.

            "Well, now you know," was all that came out of him.

            "Yes," Hermoine replied with a distant look, "now I know."

***

            "Why didn't you tell me about your father?"

Severus and Reign stayed in the kitchens after their student company exited.  Reign had her face in her hands and was focusing on her breathing.

            "It's not something I like to talk about," she said slowly, lifting her head and reaching for her goblet, "obviously."  She wiped her watery eyes.  Severus shifted uncomfortably next to her.

            "I'm sorry, Reign."  The elf cringed at his words; she hated when people apologized for something they had no control over.  She clenched her teeth and managed a weak smile.  "I know it isn't something you want to hear—"  Reign held up a hand to silence him.

            "Thank you, Severus."  She took another sip from her goblet and noticed all the small faces looking at her from around the room.  Several elves had tears in their eyes.  She saw their emotions, their concerns...they looked pitiful.  But it was then that she realized how ridiculous she had been acting, thinking that every House-elf was like Benie.  "I'm sorry," she whispered over the rim of her cup.  "Please excuse my sadistic behavior."

            "Miss has a good excuse," Dobby said as he jumped on a chair across from where the two adults sat.  "Dobby does not blame Miss for not liking him."  Despite his bravery for speaking to her, the little elf's ears still shook with the memory of their previous encounter.

            "I believe 'loathe' is the word; I still don't very much care for your kind."  Dobby looked stunned at this statement; not everyone was like Harry Potter and his friends.  He glanced at his small hands as they fumbled with his mix-matched clothes, then he jumped from the chair and went through the double doors at the back.  The tears were wiped from the eyes of the others, and they followed him, some giving her looks of hope: others, of contempt.  

            "Well, you almost had them," Severus said sarcastically.

            "I wasn't about to embrace him and demand that he follow me around everywhere—if that's what you mean."  She took another swig.  "House-elves, by nature, are annoying as hell."  Beside her, the man—who had been tortured nearly to the breaking point just a few short hours ago—laughed.  It was a deep, rich laugh—one she hadn't heard in a long while.  She smiled and fell against his shoulder.

            "Feeling better?" Reign asked.  She watched long black strands of hair invade her vision as Severus dropped his cheek against the top of her head.

            "Well, I'm not dead."  Reign pulled away and smiled at the new sparkle in his dark eyes.  

            "Far from it, I should say."  She leaned in just a bit and let Severus kiss her gently.

            "Are we done here?" he asked after their embrace, standing up and straightening his robes.  Reign downed the rest of her drink and followed his lead.

            "Looks like you certainly are."  

As they made their way back to Snape's rooms—with Severus now fully renewed and able to carry himself the way—Reign thought that it was probably good for him to watch someone else's pain—or at least to know someone else experienced pain.  The focus was off of him for that brief moment.  She saw the look in the children's eyes as they entered; they knew all about him and his exploits and were certain they knew where he had been that night.  

Despite the excruciating pain of regurgitating her tale, she was almost glad for it, if it meant easing the constant aching of the Potions Master.

When Snape released the wards on his door and entered his rooms, he motioned for Reign to follow.

            "Shall we pick up where we left off eighteen years ago?" he asked, extending a hand to her.  The elf smiled nervously.  Severus sighed.  "I miss a warm body next to me at night, Reign.  You can't blame me for that."

            "Of course not," she said, taking hold of his hand.  "It's a big bed."

Severus still didn't understand Reign's refusal at making love, but he could hardly complain.  They had come to a truce concerning the matter eighteen years ago, promising to sleep with each other as a married couple would—with clothes, without sex.  It was fair enough, considering Snape was a bit rusty at the whole business, and wasn't as sure of himself as some would have believed.

            "So who was this other man with the Dark Lord?  If you don't mind me asking."  Severus stroked Reign's hair as she lay in his arms.  She closed her eyes.

            "I'll give you one guess."  She heard a growl resonate from his throat.  He didn't need to take that guess; he already knew.  

            "That bastard," he said through clenched teeth.

            "I don't care about him anymore, Severus.  He is not what concerns me."

            "Set your sights higher, have you?"

            "They've always been high," she replied unblinking at his chest.  "I've never seen anyone so consumed by evil.  It's what took over his mind, his appearance; he had those red eyes and that awful voice long before his encounter with Harry."  She heard a grunt of annoyance at the sound of his name and smiled.  "Reliving it just increases my urge to get out of here," she said as she readjusted herself against the Potions Master.

            "On a lighter note, I figured something out today."

            "What's that?"

            "I realized that it depends on my emotions as to whether or not I can stop Time for one object or for everything."

            "And which emotions do what?"

            "Well, when that fly was driving me insane, my urge to just stop it worked—but only for the insect.  It took my concern for your well being to stop the Great Hall at dinner."  Severus looked down at her and kissed her forehead.

            "So the greater the emotion, the greater the power?"

            "Yes.  Though, isn't that true with most magic?"

            "Mm hmm," came the reply.  The Potions Master held Reign close as she spoke into his chest.

            "Voldemort won't need you over the summer, will he?"  Severus cringed at the name and looked over to his desk at the bottom drawer—where his Death Eater mask resided.

            "I don't know.  It's been known to happen before."  Reign heard the pain in his voice and wrapped her arms tighter around his torso.

            "Well, I suppose we'll just have to be prepared then," she said as she lifted her head to kiss him.

            "Yes, I suppose we will."  He looked up to the ceiling as Reign dropped her head on his chest again, closing her eyes to sleep.  As the Potions Master drifted off to slumber himself, he couldn't help but smiling at the thought of 'we'.

***

Reign woke up to a cold bed; the body that had lain next to her all night was gone.  She groaned as she stretched, twisting the sheets around her body and heaving a great sigh.  Letting her hands fall above her head, one landed on a piece of parchment.

'In class.  Didn't want to wake you.  Hope you slept well.  See you at lunch.'

Reign snorted—what a romantic love note to wake up to.

It took a lot of effort to roll out of bed and even more to pull her clothes on.  Despite knowing that Time was going at its regular pace, everything seemed to be going awfully slow for the elf.  She wished she knew a spell to automatically make a bed as she pulled the heavy blankets to the top of the mattress—trying her hardest to make it look as immaculate as Severus did.

It was a wasted effort.

Shrugging her shoulders and grabbing her robe, Reign closed the door to Snape's bedroom.  As she made her way past his classroom, she paused at the door to listen to his rich voice calling out instructions for a second year potion.  When he was finished, Reign continued up the dungeon steps and into the foyer.  She stopped to look around, wondering where she should go.  Her stomach lurched; she had missed breakfast, but according to Snape's clock, lunch wasn't very far off.  She decided to take a walk outside instead, and as she walked through the great doors and into the welcoming sunlight, she smiled satisfactorily at her decision.

The gardens seemed to call to her; she hadn't visited them in years.  As she walked, the elf removed her robes, letting the sun soak her skin and lighten her mood.  The air in June was refreshing and light; not heavy with humidity like that of late July and August.  She walked on, admiring the various plants, bushes, trees, and flowers that crowded that section of Hogwarts' grounds.  Even more than that, she loved the fountains and statues that dotted the greenery.  One particular fountain that always sent shivers down her spine was that of the original four founders of Hogwarts.  What they stood for—courage, kindness, cleverness, and power—always managed to chill her.  As she stood before the great statue, she caught sight of movement beyond a bush nearby her.

            "Harry, aren't you supposed to be in class?" Reign said, emerging from her side of the bush.  She folded her arms and raised her eyebrow at the young man.  Harry jumped from the bench he sat on, turning a slight pink at the thought of being caught skipping class.

            "I'm sorry...it's just that...I needed a break..."  Reign took a seat beside him.

            "I don't really blame you," she said, folding her hands in her lap.

            "You're not going to drag me back to class?"

            "Not unless someone approaches.  Then I'm afraid I'll have to go 'responsible adult' on you."  Harry smiled.

            "Thanks."

They sat in silence for a while, each thinking their own thoughts, until Reign finally found the right words to say to The Boy Who Lived.

            "It's okay to run, you know."

            "Pardon?"

            "To hide, to get away from everything."

            "I know," he said quietly, understanding what she was referring to.  "It's just hard.  I don't really have anywhere to run to."       

            "This garden is a good start."  She patted the bench under her.  "You've been through a lot, Harry.  More than the greater majority of the wizarding world...perhaps even the whole world."

            "Thanks for reminding me," he said sullenly.

            "It's okay to give up once in awhile—to shut everyone out...or to even shout them out.  Hell, if I'd been through what you've been through..."  She looked up to the castle.  "Well, let's just say you have earned your place among the greatest by just staying alive."  Harry snorted.  "And I don't mean by surviving all your encounters...I mean surviving yourself."  The young man looked into her eyes.  Finally someone who told him something other than 'stay strong, be brave, you're a hero, Harry, you can do anything'.  This was someone who told him what he really wanted to hear—that wanting to give up was normal.

            "It's hard being me," he said.  Reign laughed.

            "I can't even begin to imagine," she replied, slapping him on the back.

            "I'm sorry about Hermoine last night," he said after Reign relaxed against the bench.

            "Don't worry about it.  You all were bound to find out sooner-or-later."  She waited patiently for the I'm-sorry-about-your-dad bit...but it didn't come.

            "It's hard losing a parent," he said.

            "That it is," she replied.  "Even harder to lose both of them."  Harry nodded.  "I suppose that makes us two of a kind then, Harry.  Both orphans."

            "What happened to your mum?" he asked, surprised.

            "Voldemort killed my entire family—my dad first, my mom and brother a few years later."  Harry stared at the ground.

            "Guess that does make us a lot alike."

            "Yes, well," Reign said suddenly as she stood up, not wanting to ponder it another minute, "lunch is about to start."

They slowly made their way back to the castle, not really wanting to return to the life at Hogwarts.

            "All ready for exams next week?" she asked.

            "Not yet, but I will be."

            "Only one week left at Hogwarts.  How do you feel about that?"  Harry stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the foyer.  He looked up and down the space as memories flooded his mind.  "I'm going to miss it.  All of it."  

Just as he said this, Snape came into view behind Reign.  "Well, almost all of it."  The elf turned around and smiled at what he was referring to.  Severus scowled as he made his way through the sea of students now flooding the foyer.  Reign laughed when he pulled out his wand and threatened a second year for bumping into him.

            "Oh, Reign!"  She looked back up to Harry, who was almost in the Great Hall.  "Going to the En O 'Ear Ball?"

            "What?"  With all the noise, she couldn't make out what he was shouting.  She put her hand to her ear, indicating she couldn't hear him.  Harry shrugged and turned around, letting the wave of students carry him to lunch.

            "Is there something going on next week that I don't know about?" Reign asked Severus as she sat down at the staff table.  He set down his goblet and looked at her as if trying to recall something he forgot.

            "Like what?" he asked when he couldn't think of it.

            "Well, Harry asked me about something before lunch.  If I was going to something..."

            "Oh," came the reply, "that."

            "What is _that_?" Reign inquired, leaning on the table.

            "The End of Year Ball.  It's for the graduates."

            "And are teachers invited?"

            "How else would the students stay out of trouble?"  It was not in a light manner with which he said this.  Reign sighed, leaning back and gazing at the food laid out before her.

            "You're going, aren't you?"  Severus snorted.  "How else would the students stay out of trouble?" she mocked.

            "I make a point of making an appearance every year," he stated.  "A _short_ appearance."

            "And surely that leaves a lasting impression upon your students."  Reign took a bite of her turkey sandwich as Severus glowered at her.  "Thank you for the lovely note I found this morning, by the way."

            "Do I detect sarcasm?"

            "I wouldn't doubt it, you being one who uses it so often."  It was meant to be a light-hearted conversation, but suddenly it ceased to exist.  "I'm sorry, Severus," Reign replied after an awkward silence, "you know I just can't resist sometimes."

            "Oh, I know alright," he replied, taking a swig from his goblet.  Reign smiled and looked out over the students, searching for one in particular.  

Caelan had grown increasingly pale, quiet, and short-tempered in the past weeks.  Her affair with Lucius was long over, by order of the Dark Lord himself, with what she assumed was Lucius' request.  He seemed to have grown increasingly agitated toward her whenever she appeared...  

After all the things she had witnessed, all that she had been through in those few short weeks, she wanted to get away.  But he wouldn't let her; his power over her had taken its toll.  She sat at the Gryffindor table, staring at her knife.

            "Caelan?  What's gotten into you?" asked Stanton from her right side.

            "Don't ask," she warned.

Reign witness the affronted look of Stanton's as he continued with his meal.  As soon as lunch was over, she made a point to catch up with the girl before she headed to her next class.  She caught her just as she turned the corner to head to the Gryffindor common room.

            "Caelan!" The girl whirled around to an athletic pose, looking as if she was ready for a fight.

            "Oh," she said when she noticed the elf, "it's you."

            "Good to see you, also," Reign replied.  "We need to talk."

            "Spare your lecture on my extracurricular activities, Reign, I've already heard the speech," she said as she walked away from the elf.  Reign fell into step beside her.  

            "I'm not going to lecture you, Miss Decatur.  I know better than that."

            "Perhaps you should relay your knowledge to the Headmaster then."

            "Wasted efforts, my dear.  You know what you've gotten yourself into.  There's no need for me to remind you."

            "Then what do you want?" Caelan asked impatiently as she stopped in front of Reign.

            "Honestly?  I want information."  The girl snorted and continued walking.  Reign ran up behind her and spun her around.

            "And I want to know how you are feeling.  What I can do to help."       

            "There's nothing you can do," Caelan sneered.

            "Oh spare me, Caelan.  I know this look of yours.  It's the look of a slave.  Someone who is trapped...who can't get out..."  She raised an eyebrow at the girl, who looked at her feet and bit her lip.  "Come, let's talk."  Reign found them an empty classroom and Caelan conjured two chairs to sit by the window.

            "I didn't know it was so...horrible," she began immediately after they sat down.  "Sure, I knew he was evil.  Hell, I've been _alive_ the past three years; I've heard the stories.  I saw Potter stumble out of the maze during fourth year—"

            "And yet you still let him manipulate you?"

            "You don't understand," she snapped.  "He gets inside your mind, finds out your deepest desires.  And then he promises he'll give them to you.  Whatever you want, it's yours."  Her eyes glazed over as she rubbed her left forearm.

            "And what did you want?"  Caelan blinked.  She licked her lips and bit her tongue.

            "To belong," she whispered.  There was a sharp intake of breath from next to her.

            "Well, that certainly sounds familiar."

            "Does it?" she asked hopefully.  Reign nodded, but didn't pursue the matter any further.  She was sure Caelan would figure it out in time.

            "What does he really want with you?"

            "He said he created me...from you."

            "So I've heard."

            "And he embedded an emerald in me like yours, so that I can share your powers."  The hand that wasn't stroking her arm went to her chest, right above her heart.  "But he said I can only use them when you do."

            "Oh really?  I wonder why..."

            "So that when you try to defeat him, and you stop Time, I will still be there, unaffected."  She rubbed her arm harder and harder.  "So that I can protect him...so that I can kill you."  Reign leaned forward.

            "And why would he want to kill me?" she asked with curiosity.

            "Well, he didn't say that, but I only assumed..."  Reign sat back and rubbed her eyebrow as she thought.  "Perhaps it is just to protect him..."  She was jolted as a hand grabbed her arm.

            "I don't want to be a part of it anymore, Reign!  I want out!"  She stood up and threw open the window.  "DO YOU HEAR ME!?  I WANT OUT!"  Reign stood up to catch the girl as she collapsed in tears.  She lowered both her and herself to the floor, removing Caelan's hair from her face—the face of a seventeen-year-old girl who was forced to do and witness things so horrible Reign couldn't even begin to fathom.  No matter how unwise and foolish she thought the girl to be for getting tangled in the mess she was now in, she couldn't help but pity her.

            "I'll get you out, Caelan.  No one deserves this."  During her fit, the sleeve of her robes fell down, revealing her Dark Mark.  Reign kissed it gently, trying to hold back her own tears.

After their encounter, Reign dropped Caelan off at her Transfiguration course, reminding her that whenever she needed Reign to let her know.  As she walked to the dungeons, she couldn't help but shake her head.

            "She's so young...she's just a girl..." She walked in on Snape preparing for his afternoon classes.  

            "What are you mumbling incoherently about now?" he asked as she entered.

            "I've just been speaking with Caelan," she replied, ignoring his rudeness.

            "Oh?"  Snape turned from the instructions he was putting on the board.  

            "She's a mess, Severus.  Did you know she has a Dark Mark?"  He set down his chalk and sighed.       

            "Of course I know...I was there."

            "She says he's going to use her against me.  When I come to destroy him, she'll be able to protect him."  Severus raised an eyebrow at her.  She proceeded to tell him what Caelan told her about the emerald.  "If I use my powers, she will be unaffected by them."  The Potions Master fiddled with the chalk in his hands.  "We need to get her out of there, Severus. She's dying."  The man looked up and scowled at her.

            "And just how do you think we'll manage that?  Many a grown Death Eater has attempted to break the Dark Lord's chains binding them to him, and all have failed."

            "She's just a child—"

            "I know!" he shouted.  Reign froze, her mouth still hanging open.  Severus leaned against the desk, breathing hard.  "I know.  But we can't do anything about it.  Not now, nor anytime soon."

            "What can we do for her then?"

            "I'm not sure.  I'll try and think of something."  He stood up and smoothed back his dark hair.  Reign grasped her heart.

            "Dear _Kor!_  Is the Big Bad Potions Master showing a sign that he _cares?_" she said as she slipped her arms around his waist.

            "Perhaps," he said, pushing her off of him as his fifth years began to file in, "but perhaps I would not appreciate the guilty conscious that comes with the death of one of my students."  Reign winked at him and walked out of his classroom, ignoring the curious looks from his students. 

She decided to stick around the dungeons until after his class.  At the sight of her re-entrance, Snape shook his head.

            "Another tough day with the dunderheads of Hogwarts?"

            "When is it not?" he asked, organizing his most recent assignments.  Reign began to replace the proper ingredients from his counter and lined them in their appropriate order along the shelves.

            "How soon after the term ends do you think we will be leaving?" she asked suddenly.  The steady sound of eraser against chalkboard stopped.

            "I'm not sure.

            "What aren't you sure of?" she asked, moving toward him with a look of concern.

            "I don't know what Albus has planned for me, with the Order and whatnot.  Potter has been lucky enough to stay out of trouble this far into his seventh year, but there is still a week left."  He paused.  "I'm not sure what the Dark Lord has in store for him this year." 

            "Do you think he is still even after Harry?"  Severus leaned against his desk and stared at the remnants of the potion instructions he had just erased. 

            "I'm sure he is still intent on seeking his revenge..."

            "But perhaps he's after something else?"

            "Perhaps your father's prophecy..."

            "Now that he knows where I'm at..."  She drifted off.  "Severus, I want to go home."

            "I know," he said quickly.  "I know."

***

Please review.  I miss my reviews :(


	10. The Graduation Ball

Note:  Here's the next installment.  Hugs to those of you who still review *tries not to curse the others who don't*

Ten

The Graduation Ball—Attempted Murder

The night was young, but Severus Snape felt unreasonably old as he told the same two Slytherin seventh years to "cease their activities or enjoy another year at Hogwarts under my close supervision" for the tenth time.  The latter threat seemed to have worked—finally—and Snape allowed himself to smile at his power of intimidation.

The Graduation Ball was the one of the few times Severus came out of his cave and into the social scene of Hogwarts.  He broke his normal code for several reasons:

A.  It would be one final chance to land as many students in detention before their time with him was up.

B.  The House-elves went all out for the event, making dinner in his chambers sound utterly drab.

C.  On this particular evening, there was a special bonus...

...who was fashionably late.

Severus stuffed a hand in his pocket and reached for a glass of very mollified wine—one of the rights of passage the seventh years earned.  It was—of course—nothing to him, yet he relished several long swallows before the doors of the Great Hall crept slowly open and he nearly spat the mouthful of liquid onto the nearest table.  

What incurred next was a great wave of silence—starting at the entrance to the Hall, and ending where Severus stood at the front.  It was nearly as quiet as when Reign entered the vicinity—nearly dead—so many months ago.  The reaction she received this time around, however, was entirely different.

As the doors closed behind her, Reign proceeded tentatively into the area.  She cursed herself for taking so long to get ready—being late meant having all eyes on her.  Though, in the back of her mind, she couldn't resist thinking that it wasn't just her lack of punctuality that caused nearly everyone to look her way.

She tried so hard to keep her head held high, but the wide smile that played across her lips prevented her from doing so.  Of course she was going to savor the moment; she walked slowly, letting the click of her heels keep pace with the beating of her heart.  When she finally looked up most of the students had had their fill of her and were back to their previous business.  To the left of the staff table a stage was erected, where an invisible orchestra played.  Reign watched them for a bit as she walked deeper into the mass, until a touch on her shoulder stopped her.

            "Ron," she acknowledged into the very red face of the youngest male Weasley.  He laughed nervously and gave her a shy smile, trying not to look directly into her eyes.

            "You look beautiful tonight," he said quietly.  Reign couldn't help but smile—or notice the warmth spreading across her cheeks.  She thanked him, asking where his date was.

            "Oh...she's around..." he replied nonchalantly, speaking of Lavender Brown.  He leaned in close to the elf and whispered, "She was a last minute date. Not really my type, you know?"  Reign nodded, smiling despite herself.

And then she glanced over Ron's shoulder, and her eyes fell upon a shadow standing apart from the crowd, still holding the wine glass in his hand, furrowing his brows as if to burn an enormous hole in the back of Weasley's head.

            "If you'll excuse me," Reign started, stepping around the boy.  "Save a dance for me, eh?" she said as she darted in and around dancing couples.  Ron nodded, letting his smile get the best of him.  

            "How's the wine?" she asked as she stumbled over to Severus, cursing her choice of footwear.

            "Weak," he replied, setting the glass down and clearing his throat.  

            "You're late."

            "An elf is never late," Reign started.  "We arrive precisely when we mean to."  Severus snorted.  The woman raised an eyebrow at him.  "Well?" she asked impatiently.  The Potions Master looked her in the eye for the first time that night, and was nearly blinded by their brilliance.  He tilted his head and waited for an explanation.  Reign put her hands on her hips and scowled.  "Do try and act as a gentleman would in this situation."  Severus narrowed his eyes, to which Reign stood straight and held out her arms to direct his attention to her attire.  Picking up another glass of wine, Severus said quietly,

            "You look beautiful."

Reign folded her arms, looking disgusted, and then tore the goblet out of his hands and took a drink herself.

            "I beg your pardon," Severus started, completely taken by surprise.  Reign downed three-quarters of the wine before answering him.

            "Is that the best you can do?  'You look beautiful'?"  She spat the words at him in a tone louder than necessary, drawing attention to herself and the Potions Master.  Severus was quick to take hold of her arm and silence her.  Both looked enraged, until Snape's face softened and he looked down at his boots.

            "Listen," he said quietly, bringing his eyes back to hers, taking notice of her dress.  It seemed to have a life all its own—the way it flowed and shimmered in the dimly lit space.  Not entirely form-fitting, the slate blue dress opened into an A shape near the bottom, ending in a unique hemline—slight folds that exposed her legs from the middle of the calf down.  

Reign had taken special care with the neckline; she didn't much care for exposing herself to the male population of Hogwarts—not even Severus—so she created a one-shouldered, non-exposing-of-the-chest upper portion of the outfit, leaving two yards of fabric that draped over the covered shoulder and down to the floor.  

Her glistening white hair she had let down and attempted to curl.  

Severus noticed that her tattoos were still present, but her scars were not, and above her right eye was a small painting of a star, much like the compass-like ones that completed the tattoo on her left shoulder.  He didn't know what she used on her skin, but it too glowed with a light all its own.  "There are no words to describe your beauty this night," he said quietly, not letting go of her arm and thankful that she didn't attempt to break free.  Reign smiled.

            "Well, coming from a man with such a large vocabulary, I am most flattered," she teased, taking another sip of wine.  A hint of a smirk formed on the Potions Master's thin lips.

            "How did you manage to hide your scars?" he asked cautiously.

            "Minerva.  Transfiguration works wonders on changing scar tissue into new skin."  She rubbed her wrists lightly.  "Though it doesn't last long.  Only for the night."  She gave a weak smile.

They stood near the wine table for a while, conversing about the night's events—Severus complaining about not catching Potter and Co. in the act yet, and Reign laughing at his determination.  Finally, after finishing her fourth glass of wine, she decided that she had waited patiently long enough.

            "And may I ask when, my dear sir, were you planning on asking me to dance?"  Severus nearly choked on his drink.

            "We professors are merely here to keep the students in line.  We are not here to _dance," he hissed.  Reign snorted, looking out to where the Headmaster twirled with Madam Hooch._

            "Is that so?" she said, dragging his chin to where they danced.  She felt his jaw clench above her touch.  "Well I suppose I shall just ask one of the students to dance instead..."  She walked away from Severus, toward a tall redhead.  The Potions Master watched her ask Ron to dance—he very willing to oblige.

            "Enjoying tonight's festivities, are you?" she asked as Ron half-clumsily whirled her around the floor.

            "Very much, now that I can say I had the pleasure of dancing with you."  Reign couldn't help but blush.  They danced in silence for a while, Ron never taking his eyes off of the elf, while she tried to avoid his stare by taking quick glances at the rigid Potions Master and winking at him.

            "Reign," Ron said, snapping the elf back to attention, "do you think, maybe...you and I..."  Reign had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she registered his reference.

            "Oh Ron," she said in a tone that rivaled his mother's, "in all honesty, I am not your type.  Nor are you mine."  The young man smirked.

            "More of the tall, dark, and greasy type, eh?"  Reign hit him playfully on the shoulder.

            "He is not greasy."  Ron shrugged.

            "Suit yourself."  He seemed much more relaxed after he got that off of his chest, even if he was rejected.  Reign looked over to where Hermoine stood watching them.

            "Though I think Hermoine is exactly your type."  Ron nearly tripped over her feet.

            "What?  _Hermoine?_"  Ron stole a glance over at the girl, who quickly looked away.  "_My type?" he hissed at the elf.  Reign laughed._

            "She's been watching you all evening."  The music stopped; the song was over.  Reign lowered her hands and stepped away from Ron.  "Why don't you ask her to dance?  Just one," she said, pushing the young man toward the girl.  He looked back at her, giving a weak smile, before she turned and headed back to the wine table.

            "Enjoying yourself over here?" she asked.  Severus scowled.

            "Not as thoroughly as you seem to be," he sneered.  Before lifting his most recent glass of wine, Reign took it and placed it on the table.  The music started up again.  She took hold of his hands and half-dragged him out onto the floor.  "Come on," she urged.  "You owe me."  She laughed as Severus raised his eyebrows and stood fast.

            "I most certainly do not."  Reign sighed and approached him, placing her hands on his chest.

            "One dance, Severus.  That's all I ask."  She took his right hand in her left and placed his left upon her hip.  "Drop the facade for one dance, won't you?"  She began to move, taking the tall man with her.  Snape looked nervously around him as they danced, Reign moving ever closer to him.

            "People are watching, Reign," he said quietly.  She retaliated by placing her head on his chest.

            "Let them watch."  She felt the great sigh that escaped his chest as they floated over the dance floor.  Reign was pleasantly surprised at his ability to dance; after all, he didn't much seem the type.  Soon, it seemed, Severus forgot entirely who he was, what he stood for in the eyes of his students, and was enjoying himself as thoroughly as Reign was.

Until the touch of a gloved hand to his shoulder made him cringe.

            "Mind if I cut in?" came a lavish voice from behind him.  Reign's head snapped up, and both pairs of feet stopped in their tracks.  Severus spun around to face Lucius Malfoy, who wore a look of such arrogance that Reign was tempted to take her dagger and remove it permanently.  "Come now, Severus.  You mustn't keep this beauty to yourself all night."  Snape held fast to Reign's hand as Lucius took his previous position, arm wrapped tightly around the elf.  Her eyes widened, but she let go of the Potions Master's hand, communicating a look that told him she could handle herself.  He took a few steps backward, until he bumped into the wine table, and proceeded to down another wineglass.

            "How dare you show your face here," Reign sneered as they twirled, Lucius being a more forceful leader than Severus.

            "It's good to see you, also," he replied, squeezing Reign's side.  She gasped and purposely stepped on his toe—which made him hold her even tighter.

            "How are you and Caelan getting along?" she asked, noticing the distant look of the girl's from across the room.  Lucius quickly spun them out of view.

            "I shouldn't have ever—"

            "You're damned right about that," Reign spat.

            "Not that I didn't enjoy it when it first started," he said, licking his lips.  "It was a welcome change for me."

            "What?  Robbing the cradle?"

            "If that's how you want to think of it," he said quickly.  "I rather enjoyed the youthful sprite.  It was when she began to have—" he cringed,  "—_feelings_—" Reign snorted.  "—for me, that I knew it was over."

            "You're disgusting," Reign sneered.

            "But I am handsome," he replied.  "Remember?  You said it yourself.  Don't deny it."  Reign couldn't help it; his now playful disposition made her smile.  Damn him.  He pulled her even closer as they whirled passed Severus, and whispered into her ear.  "I miss you, Reign."  His lips grazed her ear, sending familiar shivers down her spine.  That's when, if he had been looking in her eyes, he would have seen them begin to swirl.  

That's when she stopped Time.

Tearing herself away from him, she stepped back, breathing hard with an intense loathing of the man that stood before her—the man who helped murder her father.  She reached down and pulled up her dress, retrieving her dagger from her thigh.  Angry tears dotted the corners of her eyes as she walked stealthily toward him, blade raised and ready to plunge into his black chest.

            "Reign?"  The elf froze.  Eyes darting back and forth in their sockets, they halted upon sight of Caelan, who approached her slowly from the right.  "What are you doing?"  It was not a question that needed to be answered; her intentions were obvious.

            "Avenging my father's death," she replied through clenched teeth.

            "But I thought it was the Dark Lord who—"  Reign spun around on her.

            "How do you know that?" she demanded.  Caelan jumped back, then rolled up the sleeve of her dress, exposing her Dark Mark.

            "I'm his instrument to be used against you, remember?"  She replaced her sleeve and ducked around the elf to stand between her and Lucius.  "Don't think that he hasn't told me all about you."

            "What are you doing?" Reign asked.  "You had better not be trying to save the life of this—"  Caelan raised a hand to silence her.

            "I'm not trying to defend him; Lord knows he deserves what's coming to him."  She turned her back to Reign, letting her eyes flow over her former lover.  Then, rotating back, said, "but I would very much rather see him cognizant of his demise."  Reign lowered her dagger, surprised at the young woman's statement.

            "You suppose me a coward?  For not facing my enemies when they are aware of my intentions?"

            "Not in the slightest," Caelan replied, ignoring the smoke fuming from the elf's ears.  "But if you would just stop and think about what you were about to do...if you do kill him, how are you going to explain yourself when you start Time again?"  She crossed her arms and awaited a response.  Reign's body relaxed.

            "Hadn't thought of that," she said to herself.  Caelan nodded.

            "Didn't think so."  Reign lifted her head and looked at the girl; she was not the same person she had cradled in her arms the previous night.

            "Very well," she started, replacing her dagger, "I shall heed your advice."  Caelan smiled.  Both women nodded to each other, before Caelan returned to her position and Reign to hers.

            "I promise," Reign whispered as Time resumed back in the arms of Malfoy, "on my father's grave," she paused as Lucius stiffened against her, "that you will pay for all the evil deeds that you have performed in this world."  She threw Lucius off of her, who laughed off her threat.  

            "I have heard that too many times to count, Reign.  What makes you think your threat is any different than the countless others I have received?"

            "Because you underestimate me, Lucius.  You underestimate my powers, my passion, and my intense loathing of you."  Composing herself as best she could, she walked straight passed Severus, away from a laughing Malfoy Sr., muttering, "I'm done...I've had enough."  

Before the Potions Master could follow her out, however, Professor Dumbledore intervened.  "Severus, let her go," he soothed as he placed a hand on his shoulder.  "Right now we have other business to take care of."  He looked toward Lucius.  "We have an uninvited—and unwelcome—guest here tonight."  

The two men proceeded across the dance floor, black robes mingling with vibrant cerulean ones, paces matched perfectly.  Albus disarmed Lucius as Severus stupefied him.  Ignoring the protests of Draco and his gang of Slytherins, the Head of House opened the nearest window as Dumbledore levitated a frozen governor out into the night.

            "I don't ever want to see you in my school again," Albus hissed into Malfoy's ear, knowing full well that he could hear him.  Severus had seen the Headmaster this angry on but a few occasions, and he was reminded how powerful and intimidating that wizard really was.  Yelling down below to Malfoy's carriage, he lowered the man to the ground, commanding his servant to take him back to his household.  When the carriage took off and Severus closed the window, Albus clasped him on the back and smiled as if he had just won a bet.

Little did he know, however, that his spell wore off halfway down the path leading to the castle, and just before the coach was through the entrance, its owner demanded that it stopped, explaining that he was not going to give up so easily.

***

            _"Sad-lu nahysa (Curse him)."  Reign paced the length of the top of the astronomy tower, holding her cloak close to her body to shield her skin from the unusually chilled night air.  "__Sad-lu nahysa," she said again, this time stopping against the ledge.  Her eyes pierced the darkness like she would have liked her dagger to pierce Malfoy's heart.  She stood rigid, her jaw clenched and her eyes unblinking.  _

Soon a soft hand landed on her shoulder.  Reign closed her eyes and spoke softly.

             "Severus."  She breathed a sigh of relief at the comfort of the man behind her.  He wrapped his arms abnormally tight around her torso.  "I just don't know what to do about him anymore," she said, as if she were referring to a small dog.  Severus lowered his head against her neck and kissed it gently, remaining silent.  Reign moaned softly against his silky hair, not turning to face him, enjoying the moment too much for that.  

            "I almost killed him tonight," she continued, slightly disappointed that her interruption paused his affection.  "I stopped Time.  I pulled out my dagger..." she paused, her green eyes glazed over as she looked up at the moon.  "Thank _Kor_ Caelan was there to talk me out of it."  She smiled to herself.  "The girl is stronger than we give her credit for.  I hate to say it, but I'm almost glad she was created...otherwise, who knows what I would have done tonight..."

            "Yes," came the reply in a voice that was definitely not Severus's, "after all, what would the world be like without Lucius Malfoy?"  Reign spun around, knocking the man away from her.  

            "Lucius!" she acknowledged.  "_What_ do you think you're doing?"  Lucius collected himself and walked slowly toward her.

            "Making amends," he stated simply.  Reign crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.  Lucius made to embrace her, but the elf was quick to step away, pulling her dagger out simultaneously.  

            "I will not tolerate your games tonight, Lucius," she warned.  The man laughed hideously.

            "Ah, that's what I love about you, Reign.  No games."  He stood still, his arms hanging by his side.  "Come now, I'm being honest.  I've been—"

            "An ass," Reign finished.  Lucius shifted in his spot and cleared his throat.

            "Yes...an ass.  I'm tired of the quarrels between us, Reign."  The elf lowered her weapon as Malfoy took a step toward her.  "I want to apologize...for everything."  He was now inches from her, the pause in conversation almost unbearable for the elf.

            "I'm waiting," she said, looking into his pale gray eyes.  Lucius smiled, took one last step and—before she knew it—had his arms wrapped around her in a stiff embrace.

            "I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear.  Reign shivered.  _"Sad-lu nahysa," she cursed softly as Lucius tilted his head to kiss her.  His lips were cold and hard, his tongue like ice against hers.  But she had missed the passion with which he kissed—Severus was gentle, shy...while Lucius..._

He pulled away, still smiling.

            "How quickly and disturbingly often we change our opinion about one another," Reign said, more to herself than to the man holding her.  Lucius laughed against her, raising a hand to stroke her cheek.  Looking up, she noticed the remnants of the scar she had given him so long ago.

            "I do not underestimate your power, Reign," he started.  "I think it is _you_ who underestimate it."

            "What?" she asked, tilting her head.  Lucius stepped back and took her hands in his.

            "You could be more powerful than you ever imagined."  Reign was beginning to see where this new conversation was going, and she quickly tore her hands away.

            "With the help of Voldemort, I suppose?"  Her tone straightened Malfoy's spine.

            "You are bound to him, Reign.  You cannot escape him."  His voice sounded more crazed with every syllable he spoke.  "You are destined to be with him."  Reign threw her arms in the air.

            "I am _destined," she spat, "to determine my own destiny.  And as of now, Lord Voldemort is not part of it."  She saw Lucius clench his fists, while she herself lowered her hand, ready to retrieve her dagger._

And then footsteps reached her ears, and she turned.

            "Severus!" she cried, walking backward toward him.  Snape took her outstretched hand and followed her gaze to Lucius.

            "Malfoy?" he said, obviously surprised.  He reached for his wand and almost had it, until Lucius put up a hand.

            "I'm not here to cause trouble, Severus."  He walked toward the couple with a slight twitch in his nose.  "I merely came to say goodbye."  He looked straight at Reign, who narrowed her eyes and glowered at him.

            "Goodbye, then," she said.  Lucius inhaled sharply before speaking to Snape.

            "Goodbye to you also, Severus.  Until the next meeting," he said.  Severus nodded, his hands now squeezing the elf's shoulders.  Both turned to watch Lucius as he descended on the stairs.  When he was sure that he was gone, Severus spun Reign around in his grasp.

            "Did he hurt you?" he asked impatiently, scanning her over for any sign of injury.

            "No," Reign replied sharply, taking his hand and pulling him down the steps.

Her pace was quick, her grip on Severus tight.  She led him passed the Great Hall—where the dance was still going strong—through the Entrance Hall, and into the bowels of the castle.  Once they reached his rooms, Reign tore off her cloak and scrubbed her face nearly raw over the bathroom sink, trying to rid it of Malfoy's scent and touch.

            "And I was so looking forward to tonight, too," she said sarcastically, emerging from the bathroom.  Severus was sitting by the fire, fully clothed, with a small bottle of rum in his hand.  Reign stopped beside his chair.

            "He kissed you, didn't he?"  Reign's smile faded.

            "Yes," she replied, stepping over Snape's outstretched legs to take a seat next to him.  She jumped as Severus hurled the bottle into the fire and plunged his face into his hands.  The elf sat frozen in her seat, not sure how to react.  Finally, he straightened and looked into her eyes.

            "What does he have that I don't?"  Reign was taken back by his question; in fact, she laughed at it.  Sliding onto the floor, she moved in front of his chair and placed her hands on his knees.

            "A lack of respect for others, a distorted view of reality, and a fierce temper."  Severus raised his eyebrow at her.  "No, scratch that.  The latter you two have in common."  She pulled herself up and kissed his forehead.  "If you are so worried about me running off with him, would you care to explain why I am here with you, instead of marching out hand-in-hand with him tonight?"  She grabbed hold of his hands and pulled him up against her.  "Hmm?"  Severus ran his hand through her white locks, smoothing out the spots that Lucius had ruffled during their embrace.

            "That's just it, Reign," he said, tearing away from her and walking around the chair.  "Why me?"  The elf could have punched him, slapped him, kneed him in the ribs...this was the umpteenth time they had gone over this.  Walking over to the bed, she sat on the edge, and motioned for Severus to join her.  Then she got up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his waist as he approached.

            "Because we need each other," she answered, relaying another reason why she was so in love with the man she held.  He opened his mouth, but Reign was quick to continue.  "I need you to keep me safe, to remind me that there are times when it is necessary to act my age..."  She kissed his cheek.  "And you need me to remind you that you are not alone in your struggle between the sides of good and evil."  She kissed him deeply, enjoying his gentle touch.  When they pulled apart, Reign looked into his dark eyes and took a deep breath.

            "Severus...I love you."

Snape didn't have time to reply as Reign's concentration on his eyes was broken.  They strayed to his chest, where a dull green light penetrated his clothing.  Reign looked up to him, her eyes their brightest.

            "When did you start wearing that again?" she asked as he let go of her and pulled the necklace out of its resting place.  He dropped the glowing emerald in her hand, squinting against its luminosity.

            "This morning, actually," he said, watching her closely as she turned the jewel over in her hands.  "When I knew I loved you."  Reign's head remained lowered, but Severus still caught a glimpse of her smile.  When she looked up to him, he was quick to capture her lips with his own.  He had never felt this way—even 18 years ago, when Reign had first told him she loved him.  His stomach lurched, his head felt light, and he finally felt like this was the moment.  Reaching to untie her dress, Reign grabbed his hand.

            "No," she breathed, pulling his hand from her.  The moment was henceforth ruined.  Severus turned around, looking for something to hit.

            "Why the hell not, Reign?" he demanded, turning back to her.  "And I demand a straight answer this time."  The elf bit her lip and sank back onto the mattress.  She avoided his glare, wrapping her arms around her knees.

            "You could try, of course, if you really wanted to."  Severus stepped toward her as she looked up at him.  "You know that promise that humans make?  About saving themselves for marriage?"  The Potions Master nodded.  "Well," she continued, looking down once more, "elves take the same oath.  Only, there really is no way to break it until we marry."  Severus narrowed his eyes.

            "What are you going on about, Reign?"  She looked up at him, into his very soul.

            "If you try to make love to me tonight, both of us will pay for it.  I've heard stories of elves who broke the code, who became pregnant, who gave birth to deformed children, who became infertile, who contracted diseases, and perished..."  There, she had said it.  Severus shook his head and snorted.

            "What?"

            "Elves take their oaths very seriously, Severus."  He sat down next to her.

            "You mean, if we try...we'll die?"  Reign nodded.  "Because of some elvish code?  Some powerful magic that a _wizard_ cannot possibly comprehend?"

            "I don't even understand how it works, Severus.  It just...does."  Snape fell back onto the mattress, rubbing his temples.  Reign patted his knee.  He could only see one way out of this.  Lifting himself up to a sitting position, he spoke.

            "I suppose we should marry then," he said quietly.  Reign laughed—Severus glared.

            "You're not serious?"

            "What?  Wouldn't you like to marry me?"  Reign punched his shoulder.

            "Of course.  But _not if it is just so you can say you robbed me of my innocence!"  Severus groaned; it did seem like that was what he was after..._

            "I'm sorry, Reign," he said with his head in his hands.  "It's just...been so long..."  Reign wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

            "I know," she said, kissing his ebony locks.  "One day...but not yet."  After they kissed they climbed into bed, holding each other close, and let the world carry on without them.

***

Please review.


	11. South

This is just an author's note, not a new chapter.  I apologize for misleading you, but it had to be done.

As of now this story is on hiatus.  I am moving down to Tennessee for college and will therefore not have a computer until the day I move in, August 21st.  

I was really hoping that I would get a chance to upload a new chapter for y'all, but it obviously didn't happen.  I'm so sorry.  Please don't forget about this story!  When I upload the next installment, it will take the place of this lame author's note.

In the meantime, I suggest reading something other than fanfiction.

And if anyone has any college advice for me, please let me know.  I'm scared out of my wits.

Thanks for everything,

Stefynae


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